


Arrhythmia

by agentsimmons



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Child Death, Doctors & Physicians, Drama, Drama & Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Foster Care, Hospitals, Kid Fic, Kid Steve Rogers, M/M, Marvel Cameos, Medical Inaccuracies, Minor Charles/Erik, Minor Jane Foster/Thor, Minor Pepper Potts/James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Misunderstandings, Parent-Child Relationship, Science Boyfriends, Terminal Illnesses, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-06-03 04:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 87,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6595858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentsimmons/pseuds/agentsimmons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Bruce Banner is a supervising physician in the children's ward at the best hospital in the country: Yinsen Memorial. Some of his patients include stubborn Natasha who treats the hospital like the backdrop for her covert spy missions and her adopted brother Phil who believes in everybody. Then there's Steve Rogers who has somehow wormed his way into the doctor's well-guarded heart. Enter one Tony Stark whose heart may be just as ready to heal as his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here's that AU draft I mentioned that's 75% complete and is about to be deleted so I feel obligated to post the first chapter of. And not just _any_ AU, but a *flashing neon lights* HOSPITAL AU. Because we definitely needed one with all these Marvel characters with doctorates *facepalm* Complete with all your favorite Hospital AU clichés such as: 'Some symptoms and medical conditions not verified by WebMD' and 'All of these doctors would probably have their licenses disciplined' and 'Glamorized Hollywood Hospital Setting' and obviously 'Takes place in the children's ward!' So basically none of this is accurate. It's all glamorized for the sake of convenience. You will probably need a tablespoon of salt at least. 
> 
> This AU also manages to be a kid fic. "Whoa! No way?" said nobody familiar with my stuff by now.

The long table was filled with mirth as they celebrated the engagement of Dr. Donald 'Thor' Blake and Dr. Jane Foster. They were probably a little obnoxious in the minds of the other restaurant-goers Bruce thought as he reached for another one of the appetizers still not devoured. Then again, it was a happy occasion and if they all seemed a little tipsy – he wasn't of course – then that just couldn't be helped. He didn't like drawing attention to himself, perhaps, but his friends deserved the attention. And he seemed to surround himself with more jovial sorts in general, he mused.

Bruce looked down the table for a moment to watch Dr. Betty Ross glow in the low light of the restaurant. She was happy and a large reason was the psychiatrist beside her, Dr. Samson. He wasn't jealous anymore. It wasn't that. He loved seeing her so bright and cheerful and in love. When they had dated, he'd always had the nagging feeling that he couldn't really make her happy. It just hadn't been right for reasons he had long since given up trying to analyze. It had been good, but not right.

"Face it, you prefer men," the young nurse who sat across from him now, Darcy, had told him once.

Bruce had merely rolled his eyes. He had a strong hunch he didn't prefer anything. He just wasn't good at interpersonal relationships. He wasn't even a very good friend all the time; at least he didn't think he was. He didn't enjoy letting himself feel things only for them to fall apart. He didn't open up easily. Maybe the word for him was coward, but whatever it was it put a damper on his interest in other people. Betty had been a very nice exception and it had ended in a spectacular failure even if it was fortunate they could still be friends.

"Okay, everyone is celebrating and you just look like a man that needs to get laid pronto," Darcy broke through his thoughts with a snort. "It's kind of really sad. Do you need me to be your winglady? I can go scope out the bar for some hot guys."

She began twisting in her seat and looking around the restaurant. Bruce groaned and brought a palm to his face even as he chuckled in spite of himself.

"Darc—"

"Oh, hell yes," she said with casual enthusiasm that made him drop his hand and look at her. "I just found Mr. Right. You are welcome." She turned to look at him with a chipper expression and giddy bounce of her shoulders. "You are _so_ welcome. How are you going to repay me? I am not above asking for a video recording of—" He choked on nothing and gave her a stern glance. "What? Straight dudes get off to lez porn so…" He sighed in exasperation.

"That's not the point. I just don't want to live in a world where you get off to me in any way whatsoever."

"Well, I hate to break it to you," she started and his eyes probably went comically wide in response. "I am definitely kidding."

He narrowed his eyes, not sure he actually believed her, but then decided to change the subject to something at least slightly less embarrassing when he happened to look just past her shoulder across the restaurant and met with the eyes of a man currently sitting alone at a table. The guy – and okay he could admit he was able to find men attractive objectively speaking – was dressed to the nines and had dazzling eyes and a strangely attractive van dyke that suited him. He didn't look tall, but he was certainly dark and handsome from where Bruce sat. He looked—

Bruce realized he was staring at the same time the other man seemed to realize _he_ had been staring too – perhaps blankly – and there was a pregnant moment of uncertainty before the man smiled slowly. It was like the slow lighting of a brilliant flame that pierced the darkness, no matter how cheesy it sounded (he may or may not have gotten into the habit of reading horrible romance novels during off hours since goodness knows the hospital was practically overrun with them in every break room and waiting room). That man's smile was the most breathtaking smile Bruce had ever seen. It made him feel slightly dizzy and to his surprise he couldn't help but smile back, pathetic and inadequate in comparison as it was; he wondered if he could even see it as small as his smiles tended to be.

"Who are you smiling at?" Darcy asked with a furrow of her brow, and Bruce just realized that buzzing noise in his ears must have been the young woman speaking this whole time his eyes had been trained on the other man. She turned and looked over her shoulder curiously and Bruce didn't even have the willpower at the moment to feel slightly embarrassed by her turning this into even more of a scene. "Oh my gosh!" She said turning back around quickly and Bruce saw the man's smile falter slightly and his eyes narrow a little. "Bruce," she stage-whispered, "that's _him_."

"What?" That was enough to make Bruce blink a few times and focus on her for a second.

"That's Mr. Right," she elaborated.

Surprised, Bruce looked back at the man, who now had a glass of wine sat at the edge of his lips, and saw his eyes still fixed in their direction. More surprising was the sudden flutter of interest in his stomach. He actually wanted to see where this might go…

Until a strawberry blonde in a crisp, white pantsuit sat down at the table with him, momentarily drawing the man's attention away. He smiled at her with that brilliant smile of his and glanced back at Bruce a few times as if uncertain. Darcy must have noticed the small frown on his face because she turned back again to look.

"Damn," she said. "Almost Mr. Right." Then she shrugged and looked at him again. "Okay, so he's attached. Doesn't mean you can't make it work." Bruce looked at her disapprovingly.

"I'm not breaking them up," he said pointedly and returned his attention to the occasion that was being celebrated. And he most definitely ignored the way it felt like he and the man were stealing glances at one another as the night wore on or the few points when it seemed the man's face was twisted in displeasure of some sort.

"Okay," he finally announced when he'd had enough for one night, "I think I'll hit the men's room and then bid adieu."

"Oh, but we were thinking about hitting a bar after this," Jane said with a small pout. Bruce shook his head as he stood.

"Sorry, you know that's not really my thing and I'm… I'm a little tired. Not to mention I don’t want to waste my off day with a hangover."

He then made for the men's restroom before she could cajole any further. He had to pass the table where the stranger sat and it was impossible not for them to meet eyes as he did. The man lurched forward slightly as if he wanted to spring to his feet – or make to run away, Bruce couldn't help thinking dejectedly – as he went by and Bruce noticed that he seemed to have a nervous tick of rubbing at his chest or else maybe he had indigestion; perhaps that was why his face turned up every now and then. Hopefully it wasn't GERD, the doctor in him considered.

Bruce went to the restroom and tried not to think about the attractive man at that table. He'd been even more attractive up close. And he was very obviously rich. He almost resembled…

"Oh my god," Bruce muttered as he had a bathroom epiphany. He was Tony Stark the billionaire. He had been flirting with Tony Stark. Or had he been? He wasn't sure if making eyes across a room counted as flirting, but it had still been with intent of some kind on his end. Maybe Stark thought he was some silly star-struck commoner or maybe… he'd been an infamous playboy when he was a little younger… maybe he was just more discreet about it and had thought Bruce was propositioning him somehow…

He quickly finished and washed his hands with a need to get out of there before he could embarrass himself any further. He was grateful that when he would pass by this time, Stark's back would be turned to him. There wouldn't be any need for eye contact and he could get back to the table and pay for his meal and…

There was a shriek just as he'd emerged from the bathroom. It was a terrified, "Tony!"

The sound curdled his blood as immediately Tony Stark came back to mind in a new way and Bruce ran over toward the table he'd been glancing at all evening. The billionaire's head was dropped unconsciously against the table and the woman was on her feet beside him trying to urge him awake.

"I need a doctor! Call 911!" She cried when he didn't move and the waiter beside her nodded and ran no doubt to call 911 although Bruce noted at least three other patrons doing the same.

"I'm a doctor," Bruce said, running to the table and pressing her out of the way. His colleagues were hurrying over as well. The proverbial 'is there a doctor in the house?' would have met with several yes replies this night.

Bruce gently moved Stark's head up so he could inspect him. He pressed his cheek to the billionaire's lips.

"Damn it!" he shouted, fear gripping him in spite of having seen this kind of situation time and time again, and immediately gestured for Dr. Blake to help him move him flat. "AED now," he commanded then and Jane ran off to fetch the facility's device.

"AED?" The woman in the pant suit asked in confusion. Then she gasped. "It's his heart?"

As Thor pushed them all back to give Bruce some space, he began hands-only CPR until Jane could return.

"Does he have any preexisting—" Darcy started to ask, but the woman choked out a yes before she could. Bruce suddenly recalled the news stories about eight years back.

"He has a heart condition," he said knowingly, not stopping what he was doing. "Does he have a pacemaker?" He asked when Jane returned with the machined and they began prepping. He had checked him for a card, but hadn't found one.

"Yes," the woman answered and Bruce frowned. Why didn't he have his card on him? He was glad he'd asked. "He was in an..." she seemed to hesitate, "...an accident once and it left his heart irregular. Um, on the low side I think he said." Bruce nodded.

"Bradycardia," he mumbled as he backed away from giving chest compressions in order for Jane to fit the AED pads on to Stark's chest. He didn't miss the quick, knowing glance she gave him, but there was no time for that as they needed to focus on saving the man's life.

"EMT just arrived," Darcy supplied helpfully as they continued.

After that it was all a blur and Bruce couldn't stop the thoughts running through his head of _don'tdiedon'tdiegodPLEASEdon'tdie_ and _comebackcomebackyouhavetocomeback_. They weren't unusual thoughts to have in an emergency situation, but the _wehaven'tevenmetyetpleasecomebacktome_ thoughts probably were.

\-----

Tony was met by piercing white light and a shooting pain throughout his body when he opened his eyes. Both caused him to groan. He then realized he had oxygen stents up his nose and an IV in one arm. His ears focused next so that he could hear the methodic _beep-beep-beep_ of a heart monitor.

He tried to raise his head up, but it hurt too much. Thankfully that was when he registered the call remote pressed under his hand. He pushed the button. He didn't like being in hospitals, but he wasn't so dumb as not to ask for assistance when he definitely needed more pain medication.

As he waited, he tried to run over the events he last remembered, hoping to figure out how he'd landed in an emergency room. He recalled having closed a deal to set up Stark Resilient. He recalled going to dinner to celebrate with Pepper. He recalled…

Tony closed his eyes and focused, meeting in his mind's eye the handsome face of a stranger he'd seen in the restaurant. He had curls of brown hair and dark soulful eyes and his features were just a tad crooked in the best kind of way. And—

"So good to see you awake, Mr. Stark," came a female voice and Tony opened his eyes, the vision of the stranger dissipating and replaced with a thin, young woman with brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. She was fiddling with his equipment in a way Tony couldn't begin to understand. "How are you feeling?" Tony groaned and then tried his voice.

"Miserable," he answered and was grateful that it didn't sound much worse than dry from lack of use and a drink of water.

"Anything specific?" She quizzed. He considered it.

"Just pain," he replied.

"Well, cardiac arrest will do that do you," she supplied. "I'm Dr. Foster," she then introduced herself as she called for a nurse to help in changing the drips.

"Cardiac arrest?" Tony repeated and moved his clear hand to rub at his chest sorely.

"Yes, but don't worry," Dr. Foster said evenly. "Your emergency responder got your heart started up again within a few minutes and thankfully it didn't stop again on the way here. We needed to do a reset of your pacemaker. You'll continue to be in pain for a while, lots of bruising from the sudden lack of blood flow. We'll also be keeping you here for several days at least to monitor your condition, keep an eye on neurology, that sort of thing," she explained and Tony nodded feebly. "But overall I don't have any reason to think you won't make a quick and full recovery."

"When... Where did it happen?" Tony managed next.

"You were at a restaurant the night before last." He blinked in realization of having been out cold for that long. "Lucky for you, so was I and several of my colleagues so we could manage a quicker than usual response to your condition," she answered.

"That _is_ lucky," Tony huffed out something meant to be a laugh or sigh of relief or maybe both.

"Alright, that should help," Dr. Foster said when the new drips were in place and pumping more drugs and liquid into this body. "I doubt you'll be awake much longer, but you have two visitors. They can come in and sit with you since it's visiting hours and you're stabilized. But don't exert yourself, Mr. Stark," she warned. "Your file has quite a few comments about the kind of patient you can be."

"I'll bet," Tony responded.

He thought he saw her pause, give him a considering look and then shake her head before leaving. Then again, his vision was starting to blur again so it might have been his imagination.

When Tony woke again, the light didn't offend his eyes so much as before and he didn't feel like he'd been run over by a bus. He heard voices whispering and a quick perusal of the room led his eyes to Pepper and his best friend, Rhodey standing off to the far side and facing one another.

"We can't keep this from him any longer," Pepper whispered and looked down. That's when Tony saw her hands were in his.

"But right now? Here? It might be a shock."

"Well, it's a little bit of a shock," Tony said, giving himself away in order to see their dear-in-headlight reactions.

"Tony, you're awake," Pepper said cheerfully and quickly came over. Rhodey looked relieved and tentative both as he followed behind.

"Good to see you're okay, Tone. You know I'd be lost without you, man." Tony smiled, but then raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, I don't know about that. Seems you've got somebody else to drive you crazy now." Rhodey immediately glanced at Pepper.

"We didn't know how you'd take it," he explained without further segue way. He looked at him then apologetically.

Tony found the adjust button and repositioned the bed so he was in a more upright position. Pepper gave him a quick look that said, 'should you be doing that?' before adjusting his pillows for him.

"I think I would take it the same way I'm taking it now," Tony responded then to Rhodey's previous comment. He looked at them both studiously. "I’m thinking, oh hey my two best friends are fucking that's cool. And I'm thinking, when the hell did this happen and how does it even work and what happens if it goes south?" He sighed and reached for the water on his bedside. Unsurprisingly, Pepper helped with that as well. "You still spoil me," he said with a fond chuckle when he'd drunk his fill and she moved the cup back.

"Only because you still don't have anyone else," she said with a soft sigh and shake of her head.

Tony pursed his lips for a moment and looked away. He wanted to say, 'At least I'm trying, Pepper. At least I'm not some raging dick anymore.' But he knew that part of his change over the past eight years wasn't only to do with the urge from the doctor who'd saved his life to stop wasting his life. So what if he hadn't found anyone? Well Pepper _almost_ , but that hadn't felt right enough to pursue. Maybe he didn't need anyone.

"But _you_ have somebody else now," he said, coming back to the moment, and patted her hand. He then decided the mood needed to be lighter and added, "But how am I supposed to do the shovel talk?" They looked at each other, in clear relief, and laughed. "I mean I guess whoever breaks the other is the one I'm no longer friends with? Or maybe I'll just wash my hands of the entire thing and say best of luck, but if it goes south don't either of you come crawling to me. In any sense," he added cheekily. "I am nobody's rebound." Rhodey laughed long and hard then.

"Oh I seriously doubt that," he said. "I'm pretty sure you've been _somebody's_ rebound at some point. Statistically speaking and all that." Tony laughed too until he spluttered a little and sighed.

"Okay, that's probably true. But I draw the line at being rebound for anybody I know personally."

There was silence for a few moments and then Rhodey said, "You should maybe know where you're at." Tony tensed slightly.

"Yinsen Memorial?" He guessed, though he knew the answer already because Rhodey wouldn't have mentioned it otherwise.

"Yeah," Rhodey answered. "You okay with that?"

Tony didn't reply right away. He looked around the room that he had technically built four years prior. He closed his eyes tight and remembered the good friend it had been in honor of, the man who had passed away far too early in life – even if it had been his wish to see his late wife and children in an afterlife that had made him stop fighting.

"Tony?" Pepper gently urged. He opened his eyes again and nodded.

"It's fine," he said, perhaps a little stubbornly. There was no point in letting himself be even more vulnerable than he already felt confined to a hospital bed with a stupid thing in his chest to keep him alive. "Just a bit of a shock. But I wouldn't want to be treated anywhere else."

And that was true he decided as he let himself relax and enjoy their fleeting company before sleep overtook him again.

When Tony woke the third time, his bed was adjusted back down again and the room was mostly dark save for the light of a television in the corner he'd requested a nurse keep on to help drown out some of the hospital noises he didn't particularly care for. He thought about closing his eyes again since there wasn't much else to do and he didn't feel like making the trek to the bathroom no matter how much his bladder insisted it might be time to do so again. However, upon glancing toward the bathroom in consideration, he was surprised by the sight of a stranger sitting in a nearby chair.

Not just any stranger. It was the man from the restaurant. Tony would know that face anywhere. His dark eyes were drawn into a firm study of him.

"It's you," Tony said in slight confusion and the dark eyes blinked a few times as if waking from a trance. "You came to visit me?" The man shifted a little, but then stood.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he said at length and Tony now had a voice to go with the face. Now all he needed was a name. "How are you feeling?"

Honestly, Tony didn't know the answer to that question. He felt light headed and sore and there was tightness in his chest that might be more alarming if it didn't feel more likely due to the surprise of meeting with the man again like this, of knowing the stranger was concerned. What he was really feeling was immense interest in this stranger and everything else was on the back burner. But now didn't seem like the appropriate time to make it known. Then again, maybe it was mutual if the man had shown up out of the blue…

Or maybe he was dreaming. He studied the weathered face of the man looming beside him. It didn't make sense for him to be there. It was probably after visiting hours. He wasn't real.

"You seem a little tired still," the man spoke when he didn't. "You should rest some more, Mr. Stark. The more you rest now the faster you'll be discharged."

The man knew his name. Now he _knew_ he was dreaming. So he closed his eyes – or maybe they were already closed – and drifted deeper into unconsciousness where soon he was dreaming even nicer dreams about the stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The extent of my knowledge regarding cardiac arrest is being Red Cross CPR/AED certified. Aka I hope I never have to put any of that knowledge to use because clearly...  
> 2\. Pepper/Rhodey is something I ship, but like I've never gotten around to making that happen in a fic so I felt like shouting out to that pairing in this one.


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce had known it was going to be a long day. It was Sunday after all and there were often visiting families and friends on the weekend. Often he tried his best to get enough rest so he wouldn't be entirely dead on his feet. But the unexpected twist of events a few nights before had stolen a lot of the little rest he got on top of his work and so he was a little groggy as he made his early morning round to his patients in the extensive, state-of-the art children's ward.

One by one he checked on the kids of various ages in his care, chatting with the parents who were there with them, and thankfully delivering more cheerful news than not that morning. He even got to discharge a brilliant little girl by the name of Jemma Simmons to complete the rest of her scoliosis treatment at home now that she had recovered enough from her surgery.

It was always a little bittersweet discharging a child, especially if they'd been there for awhile, but it was preferable to the alternative. At least this way he could feel good that they were moving on with hope for their futures thanks to the care he and his colleagues had provided. However, whenever he discharged a patient it served as a reminder to him not to get attached because at any point things could take a fatal turn and there was just no way to survive that heartache time and again if you didn't guard yourself against it.

Of course, he knew that was easier said than done. If he had two weaknesses in this world it was kids and mothers. Kids had a way of tearing down any wall he ever built to keep people out and he would go to any length to protect them, much the way his own mom had gone to great length to protect him when he was a kid. That, of course, was the reason for his other weakness. He had a hard time seeing mothers cry over their kids. He didn't enjoy it when fathers did either by any means – and it was a nice reminder that wonderful fathers weren't imaginary creatures – but the bond between mother and child cut him deeply and was harder for him to guard against. Whenever he could he left initial diagnosis where there was only a mother involved to his main colleague Dr. Xavier.

Then there was Steve Rogers.

Bruce moved into the room and found the eleven year old boy sat cross legged on his bed and hunched over one of his many, many sketchpads. He had a few black markers of varying tip size at his disposal as well. One was held between his teeth. One was tucked behind his ear. One, of course, was in hand against the paper.

"Are you trying to add scoliosis to your list of diagnoses, Steve?" He asked the frail kid with a fond smile as he came over closer to the bed. "You have a desk."

The room was designed to look and feel as nice as any bedroom at home and all of the rooms were constantly being updated to remain modern and homey. This meant that there was no more than two to a bedroom for older kids and four for younger – save for the necessary communal wings. It meant the beds were nice. It meant that each had a nice television with a video game system. It meant that there were two desks and a small sitting area. Then there were the areas beyond the personal rooms such as the common lounge and many other playrooms and the private cafeteria and the school rooms for the kids unable to attend classes at a regular school for a great stretch of time. As far as hospitals went, Yinsen Memorial had quickly become one of the best in the country in terms of luxury and the children's ward was no exception; in fact, the children's ward was more luxurious than the rest of the hospital. The kids had taken to calling it Candy-land, which was a nice coping mechanism for the ones that had to live there for any stretch of time.

Steve finished up a section of his line-art and then straightened. His round, baby blue eyes and impeccable smile practically challenged Bruce to chastise him again and as usual it was a losing battle. If Bruce had a third weakness, he supposed it might be the skinny young boy with his shaggy blonde hair and apple-pie sweetness – not that he didn't have a spitfire temper hiding beneath it; time and time again he was getting into tiffs with fellow patients that were bullies and going up against just about anyone if it meant protecting other people.

"Does Jemma get to go home?" Steve asked brightly, no doubt due to the mention of scoliosis. Bruce had shared with him earlier in the week that he had a feeling Jemma might be discharged today, which meant she'd be leaving in the morning. Bruce smiled and sat on the edge of the bed.

"She does. There'll be a small send off party for her in the cafeteria later." They tried to have send off parties whenever possible, a small affair with cake and punch and balloons.

"That's good," Steve said with a nod. "She'll probably be bored out of her mind at home though." Bruce chuckled.

"Maybe, but I'm sure her mom and dad will be happy to have her there again." A shadow passed across Steve's face for a moment.

"Yeah, probably," he answered and then hunched over his drawing again.

Bruce frowned and looked down at his hands. The boy was an orphan. He had been in one foster home after another since he was four and in and out of the hospital most of his young life. He'd been a permanent resident at Yinsen Memorial, one of the many recipients in the hospital of something known as the SHIELD fund, for the past three years. He'd been admitted around the same time as Bruce had come to work there so he felt most connected to Steve.

Bruce looked back at Steve's drawing and squint his eyes in study.

"Doesn't look like one of your usuals," he remarked. Steve was a budding graphic artist and while he made other drawings and standalone pieces, he'd created up quite a few comic heroes with elaborate story lines that often overlapped as the characters were all in a single universe.

"It's for Jemma," Steve replied. Bruce stood and moved so that he could stand beside the bed and get a better look over Steve's shoulder.

"Oh. I see it now." The figure was obviously older, but he could see the similar traits. He had her hair drawn up in a pony tail and it looked like she was wearing an Oxford shirt that seemed fitting of the young, English girl and there were the clear beginnings of a lab coat. "You're making her a scientist," Bruce said with a smile. "She'll appreciate that."

"Not just any scientist," Steve said and then he switched markers and moved up to the top space that Bruce knew by now was where he usually put the title card, since this was obviously meant to be like a comic cover, and began sketching out block letters with a steady hand. When he was done it read—

**Jemma Simmons: Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.**

"Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Steve said with a nod. "Since she's also a fund recipient," he explained. "I made S.H.I.E.L.D. this super secret organization with scientists and spies and doctors. Basically the normal, but still really awesome people are agents. Although, I think maybe some will be both agents and heroes with powers." He shrugged. "Not sure yet."

"Ah. I see." Bruce smiled. "How are you feeling today, Steve?" He finally asked as he watched the boy reach for his color markers.

"I got a good night sleep," Steve answered. "Feeling pretty strong. Lots of energy."

Bruce always felt a bit of relief when the boy replied favorably, and Bruce could tell he wasn't lying to cover it up. He wanted the boy to get better, get stronger. He was on his way since starting treatment with Dr. Abraham Erskine, renowned for his physical therapy regimens and other specialized care, but he had a ways to go yet and the part of Bruce that felt connected to Steve always worried a little about a relapse or another condition developing before his immune system could fight back.

"Good," Bruce said. "Don't burn it all up at once or—"

"You'll never believe it, Steve." He was interrupted by Steve's roommate, Natasha.

Natasha was fourteen and another kid originally from the system. Only she had been adopted by the same man who had taken in Steve shortly before his extended stay in the hospital. A lot of Steve's difficulty in finding a permanent home had been his health needs. Nicholas Fury, Natasha's adoptive father, hadn't seen it as a burden and rather applied for a SHIELD fund for Steve as soon as he came to live with him, having already gotten one for both his daughter and adopted son Phil prior to the hospital even opening.

Natasha had acute renal failure and was often in the hospital for weeks at a time because the ornery girl was always pushing the limits of her dialysis and over-fatiguing herself to the point of needing extensive monitoring and bed rest – much to her father's chagrin. Fortunately she was finally on the shortlist for a new kidney and hopefully they'd find a match soon. Until then, the redheaded girl didn't intend to let her symptoms hold her back.

"You always say that," Steve countered his sort-of foster sister. Unfortunately, that would likely always be the extent of their relationship since Bruce knew for a fact that Fury had no intentions of adopting Steve for reasons he could only guess. Perhaps money or the difficulty of the process. And there was the fact, Bruce theorized, that Steve had spent the past three years in a hospital and there hadn't been much of a chance to form outside of occasional visits and outings with him and Natasha when he was strong enough.

"I really mean it this time," Natasha said and came over to stand at the end of the bed. Before she could get started, Bruce gave her a pointed look.

"You've been wandering around the hospital again, haven't you?" She had a bad habit of sneaking about – and getting away with it – so to collect as much gossip (or intel as she called it) from around the hospital. Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "At least tell me you used a wheelchair?" There was no answer, but he already knew she probably hadn't.

"Tony Stark is here," she blurted and Bruce's head shot up in surprise. Beside him on the bed Steve straightened and looked at her with wide eyes.

"You're lying," Steve said with a scowl then.

"I'm not!" Natasha protested. "He really is. He was admitted last night because he had like a heart attack or something."

"What!?" Steve panicked.

"He went into cardiac arrest," Bruce corrected, "and he has a right to patient confidentiality." Bruce knew very well he'd just breached it himself by correcting them, but that seemed par for the course in the children's ward where there were no secrets and it was just second nature to discuss things openly.

"So he's really here?" Steve looked up at him eagerly. "And he's okay right?" Bruce furrowed his brow.

"Since when are you such a big fan of Tony Stark?" he asked. Natasha snorted and he moved his confused look in her direction.

"Really, doc?" She returned his confusion with incredulity. "Who do you think his precious Iron Man is inspired by?"

"What?" Bruce blinked and looked back at Steve to see his somewhat sheepish expression. He tried to ignore the way his throat went a little dry. Of all Steve's imagined characters, Iron Man and the charismatic genius billionaire – _oh_ – that wore the suit had always been his favorite.

"You've never noticed the similarities?" Natasha quizzed. "He—" He looked at her quickly and saw the obvious wave of nausea that came over her. She hurried to the bathroom.

"Do you think I can meet him?" Steve asked while she was preoccupied.

"I don't know." Bruce looked down at him. "He's technically a patient. He probably—"

"Doesn't want some annoying kid pestering him," Steve finished dejectedly. Bruce sighed and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"It's not that necessarily. But he needs rest too, Steve. He needs to get better. Maybe when he's better," he saw Steve look a little worried, "and I promise you he will be soon, I'll try to speak to him about coming back sometime for a visit."

"I guess that'll have to do," Steve said in resignation.

There was a flush of a toilet and running water. Then Natasha was in the doorway of the en suite not looking like she was finished being sick just yet.

"Oh by the way," she said as she stood there, "Peter's mom isn't doing so well."

"Is he here?" Bruce asked on instinct, heart lurching. Natasha nodded.

"He was moping in one of the waiting rooms. You know how he is."

\-----

Tony knew well enough by now that he wasn't supposed to go wandering the halls of a hospital, but he was going stir crazy and if he didn't get out of that suffocating room soon he was going to just sign the paperwork necessary to discharge himself. The lesser of the two evils was taking an unauthorized stroll. He even managed to round quite a few corners, crisp white lines and pungent with phenol, before getting stopped.

"Oh, Mr. Stark. You're not supposed to be up and about yet." He blinked at the young, dark haired nurse in front of him. She looked vaguely familiar. "I'm pretty certain Dr. Foster wanted you to stay in bed for at least another day before some light physical therapy. Unless she changed her mind and didn't tell me." She squinted as if in thought. Tony rolled his eyes and looked at her name tag.

"Look, Darcy, if I stay in that room one more minute it won't matter what Dr. Foster says." Her eyebrows shot up.

"Was that a threat, Mr. Stark?" she asked and he sighed.

"If I say yes you'll tranq me won't you?" She looked like the type that would and the devious way her mouth quirked into a smile was answer enough.

"Come on," she said, dragging him back. "Hey, don't take it personal. I'd just as soon let you roam around, but there are rules and stuff." She continued to ramble incessantly about said rules and Tony blocked out most of them until she stopped abruptly, pulling him up short alongside her. "I, uh…" She let go and turned around, looking back down the hall. Tony turned in curiosity and looked as well. "I just remembered something really, really important." She looked at him then with a raised eyebrow. "Can I trust you to get the rest of the way to your room?"

"Yeah, yeah," Tony said with a flap of his hand and she hurried off.

He narrowed his eyes after her, not sure what to think about the nurse. Finally he blinked and shook his head, deciding to dismiss it altogether. He then sighed and started back toward his room for the time being, but he only managed two steps before stopping again. He had caught the sound of a familiar voice and he inclined his ear to try and listen more carefully.

Convinced it couldn't be his imagination he straightened quickly and turned on his heel. He moved toward the intersection of hallways he and the nurse had just passed and turned his head left. His eyes widened at the sight of the man from the restaurant sat in a chair and speaking to a young boy.

He cautiously moved toward the scene and saw that the man was dressed in a doctor's coat. He couldn't see the badge, but he was speaking in a reassuring tone to the boy who probably wasn't listening because he had large headphones on.

"Please, Peter, I know you're hurting, I do," the man was coaxing gently. "But your mother is hurting too. I know it's hard. And it's not fair to ask you to be brave, but…" The man seemed to choke on his own emotion and turned away in defeat.

Tony immediately felt pity for them both and felt the need to swoop in. So he did, going to stand just in front of the boy.

"Hey, whatcha listening to?"

The gorgeous stranger startled and looked up at him quickly, shock written all over his face. Tony opened his mouth to say something, but before he could there was a, "Oh my god, you're Tony Stark."

He and the other man looked at the boy, Peter if he'd heard right, to see he had pulled his headphones down to his neck and was looking up at him with wide eyed disbelief. The stranger – _or doctor?_ – seemed just as surprised as he looked back and forth between him and the boy. Tony just smiled as he looked the boy straight on.

"I am," he said. "In case you didn't catch my earlier question, whatcha listening to?"

The boy seemed momentarily hesitant as he looked down at his music player.

"It's a playlist my mom made for me," he finally answered. "Old songs from the 80s and 90s."

"Old?" Tony scoffed with purposeful melodrama to keep the tone light. "Got a favorite?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I really like _Footloose_."

" _Footloose_ , huh?" Tony replied easily and the boy brightened, nodding. "Classic. Have you seen the movie?"

"Only like a hundred times," he said with a smile then. "Momma showed it to me once. It's great."

"Well, aren't you the coolest kid around," Tony encouraged. "Bet your mom is proud."

He knew from the previous string of dialogue he'd overheard that the fallen face that followed was inevitable, but he was good at getting people to open up and then divulge things they wouldn't normally. He had natural charisma like that and knew it, wasn't afraid to use it when he could.

Sure enough the boy admitted, "No she's not."

"That's not true, Peter," the doctor protested immediately.

"Yes, it is," Peter protested back. "I'm scared she's not gonna make it. I'm scared of visiting her because she's so weak and it hurts to see her. I'm not brave. She wants me to be, but I'm not!"

He started to withdraw again and pull up his headphones, an obvious clutch because Tony certainly knew clutches when he saw them. Tony gently placed a hand on his wrist to stop him and the boy met his eyes with tear-glazed ones.

"Want to know a secret, kid?" Tony waited for a response, but nothing came. He let go of Peter's wrist and shook his head. "Nobody ever really is."

"What?" The boy questioned.

"Brave, I mean. We all make promises to be brave or try to pretend like we can be. Hell, most of us never admit it when we're scared and it's braver to actually do that." He shrugged his shoulders, knowing he was preaching to the choir a little more than he liked. "But most of the time people just don't always have the capacity to put on a brave face all the time. It's good to try, sure, but don't beat yourself up too much about it. You being scared for your mom is only natural. Means you love her."

"I do," he said with a nod and let his head fall, tears streaming down his face.

Tony knelt down and met with the stranger's glistening eyes for a brief second. He then focused on Peter again.

"Look, Pete, I can't promise you your mom's going to be okay. I won't lie to you. I hope she is of course, but if she's not then the best thing you can do is be with her as much as you can while you can. I know it hurts and it's not going to stop hurting. But take it from me. It's better to do what you can now than try make up for regrets later." Peter blinked through his tears and looked at him. "That make sense?" He nodded gently. "Good. Now dry your eyes and go visit her. And later have somebody bring you by my room and I'll give you my favorite pair of shades. Because, hey, I get it. It's okay to cry, but sometimes you don't want everyone to see." He ruffled the boy's hair and stood back up.

"Okay," Peter said weakly and slid out of the chair and down the hall toward one of the rooms.

"That was really heavy," Tony said with a sigh after he was gone. "How do doctors do this?" He then looked at the stranger who was gaping at him slightly. "I guess I could ask you. You _are_ a doctor, aren't you?" 

"With great difficulty sometimes, I assure you," the man answered the previous question and stood to his feet as well. "And, yes, I'm a doctor," he answered the second. "I'm, I'm a children's doctor here," he explained.

"So, _not_ a dream," Tony said, recalling his presence at his bedside, but that made the doctor look at him strangely. "Never mind," he chirped, waving it off. He could analyze it later. "I'm assuming you're one of the colleagues Dr. Foster mentioned since she said she was at the restaurant." At that the doctor blinked and looked sheepish.

"Uh, yeah. So I take it you recognize me?" He looked at him through his lashes.

"Trust me," Tony said evenly. "You're not exactly forgettable."

The doctor seemed surprised by that and opened his mouth, possibly to protest, but there was a female voice that interrupted.

"There you are! I thought you said I could trust you to get back to your room." It was that same nurse and suddenly Tony realized why she had looked vaguely familiar. She was the woman who had turned to look at him when he'd been fixated on the doctor at the restaurant. Another colleague then… or was it more than a colleague? He'd wondered that at the restaurant too.

"Darcy?" The doctor responded first and Tony thought he saw a suspicious look in his eyes.

"I swear, I told him to go back to his room, Dr. Banner. He was wandering about and I tried, honest."

"She did," Tony decided to vouch for her. "And I really did promise her I'd behave. But then she'd left and I heard you talking and, uh," he hesitated half a second before deciding to go for broke as he typically did, "recognized your voice from your visit to my room."

The doctor's eyes, that had only grown more suspicious over the course of his statement, widened suddenly and he looked like he didn't know how to respond.

"You visited his room?" Darcy quizzed with a raised eyebrow and Tony was fairly certain it wasn't jealousy rather genuine curiosity in her tone.

"Just to check on him," the doctor replied. "I was here early for a surgery," he said. "And thought I'd see how he was doing." The doctor then tilted his head and looked at him in a surprisingly disappointed kind of way. "Also thought I might give him a small lecture about not carrying his identification card with him."

Tony winced. He didn't know the man, not really, but he realized right away he didn't enjoy having his disappointment or disapproval directed at him.

"I have my reasons," he mumbled.

There was an awkward silence that followed. Finally, the doctor broke it.

"Well, I've got to get back to Candy-land," he said to Darcy and Tony preened a little at the nickname given to the children's ward, as that was no doubt what he must be referring to if he was a children's doctor. "Natasha wasn't feeling too good when I left and I haven't checked on Phil yet." He looked at Tony then. "Thank you, Mr. Stark for your help with Peter. You seem to have a way with kids. You shouldn't have been up and about without authorization, mind you, but thank you."

"I'm fine," Tony groused, hands rising and then flopping down against his thighs. He ignored the way the bruises hidden under his sweatpants and loose-fitted quarter-sleeved thermal shirt – that he'd demanded to be able to wear instead of the ridiculous gown once he'd had the coherency to do so – protested that he wasn't quite fine. The doctor looked him over skeptically, but then gave a small smile so Tony decided it was worth it.

"Well, since you're good with kids, and there are some kids in the ward that would probably love meeting a bona fide… celebrity of sorts…" Tony frowned melodramatically at his seeming disgust for the terminology. "Maybe I'll talk to Dr. Foster about letting you join in on a little party we're having later for one of our patients whose going home tomorrow. She's really into science, so I'm sure she'd love it if you were there."

Tony smiled genuinely, both because he was a sucker for kids that loved science and because a party away from his room even with a bunch of kids sounded like a vacation.

"I'd love to be there," he replied, smile broadening and the doctor blinked a few times.

"Okay," he said at length. "Just, get some rest in the meantime. Because fine or not, you still need it," he said firmly and then left.

"You heard him." Darcy began dragging him back to his room once more. "Incidentally, you're welcome," she said with a wink when they'd reached it.

Tony opened his mouth to ask her for what when it struck him what she meant, and besides she had already dashed off again. He shook his head and moved toward the bed. He looked at the chair where the doctor had sat the night before, watching him. If nothing else the man had been concerned so that was a hopeful sign the interest wasn't one sided.

As he settled down into the bed, he grabbed his tablet – courtesy of Pepper along with other items he'd asked for – and began looking for something to entertain him. That is until something from the conversation out in the hall came flooding back to him. Darcy had called the man Dr. Banner.

It had to be a coincidence, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'd like to reiterate I'm bs-ing this like they do in medical dramas. I'm pretty sure patient confidentiality and not oversharing stuff is still par for the course even in the children's ward. But since everything about Yinsen Memorial is over the top anyways that's how _its_ children's hospital works. Besides. Natasha is there.  
>  2\. Speaking of Natasha I went back and forth on whether or not Natasha or Clint should be one of Fury's adopted kids since Clint was with S.H.I.E.L.D. first and then brought Natasha over. But 1. I love Natasha and Fury's relationship and 2. where I wanted to go with the fic in a later chapter caused me to go with Natasha. And kudos to anyone who already knows and/or pieces together the random reasons why I went with renal (kidney) failure for Natasha.  
> 3\. Sickly baby comic artist Steve is 97% of the reason I was inspired to actually write this fic when the idea came to me.


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce watched silently from the door as Jemma and Phil sat playing Scrabble in one of the smaller, therefore, quieter activity rooms. They were the only two there at the moment as most of the kids were either in bed still for some medical-related reason or another or running wild elsewhere.

“You are too good at this game,” Phil was complimenting the girl a couple years his junior as he scrunched his face a little at the word she'd just come up with.

“I read a lot,” Jemma answered. She shrugged. “Sometimes that’s all there is to do.”

“Well soon you’ll be all healed up and then you’ll never want to look at another book again,” Phil teased with a friendly smile.

“Impossible!” Jemma protested. “You have to look at books to be smart enough to go to college.”

“True,” Phil replied easily as he studied his rack of letters. He then looked up with a warm and knowing expression older than his almost ten years. “But you’ll want to be sure to leave the books sometimes to go out and do things too. That’s the only real way you can change the world with your brilliance.”

"Do you really think I'm brilliant, Phil?" she asked hopefully and Bruce couldn't fight the small smile that touched his lips as he came further into the room.

"Of course. The question is do _you_ think you're brilliant?" Jemma's small face twisted up a little as if in thought, but then she gave a small nod. "Good. Because that's what matters. And it's true so there's nothing wrong with thinking so."

"Well said, Phil," Bruce interjected at that moment and they both looked at him brightly. "Miss Jemma is quite brilliant." He studied the board and hummed at some of the big words. He then studied both of their racks of letters. "Of course, the real fun of Scrabble is trying to utilize the squares and letters for the most points," he reached for the X sitting on Phil's rack and placed it on an open triple letter square combined with a U, "with as few letters possible."

Both Jemma and Phil looked down at the board and then looked at one another before looking up at him with wide eyes in a synchronized motion. He couldn't help but feel a little pleased by it. Maybe that was a little pathetic, he mused.

"That's 25 points!" Jemma exclaimed in disbelief. "And only two letters!"

"Is XU even a word?" Phil seemed incredulous. Bruce chuckled. He couldn't blame him.

"It's a bit of an archaic word, but it's allowed. A Xu was a coin that used to be used in Vietnam." Jemma puffed out her cheek and looked at the board.

"I guess I still have some books to read and words to learn before I'm as brilliant as Dr. Banner," she said finally and Bruce smiled.

"Well, you have plenty of time ahead of you to get there so try to have a little bit of fun in the mean time. That way you end up better-rounded than me," he poked fun at himself. Jemma scoffed.

"Nonsense," she said cutely. "You're perfect, Dr. Banner."

"Hear, hear!" Bruce turned on his heel to see Steve standing there with his gift for Jemma in hand and felt his own smile widen in genuine flattery. His chest always filled with a deeper kind of pride when it came to Steve. He came over to stand in front of Bruce and beamed up at him. "Nobody's more perfect than you." Bruce shook his head, still smiling.

"That's not true, but thank you." He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and unless it was his imagination Steve beamed just a little bit brighter. It was probably just his imagination. "You finished?" He nodded to the gift.

"Oh. Oh yeah!" He looked at Jemma. "I made you something, Jem. I wanted to give it to you before the party."

"Phil, has anyone else checked on you yet today?" Bruce asked the boy while he still had a window of opportunity. Phil startled slightly, breaking away from his trance-like gaze on his favorite person in the world – Steve – and looked up at him.

"Oh, uh, Doc Thor came by before his shift in neonatal," he said.

He was speaking of the large blonde doctor that was working there on his residency in pediatrics, the same now engaged to Dr. Foster. The kids, and as a result even adults, called him Thor since it had been his nickname in graduate school thanks to his stature and hobby of mixed martial arts and since Steve had decided to immortalize the nickname further by basing one of his comic characters, the actual demigod Thor as a superhero, on his likeness and personality.

Bruce studied him carefully for a moment and then nodded. Thor seemed to have a soft spot for Phil so it wasn't unlikely.

"Okay, I'll go check the chart," he relented and decided to leave the three kids to their quiet moment together, only hesitating for a moment to see Jemma's initial ecstatic reaction to the image.

Bruce then moved to Phil's room and checked the chart like he said he would. He sighed when he did and made a note, although he was sure Thor had probably already done so and would have spoken with him about it in time. Phil's latest white-blood cell count average was in and he didn't like the increase compared to his last average.

He had just finished and was putting it away when there was a smirking, amber-eyed female to his right. He could guess what she was there for so he greeted her blandly. His mind was still on Phil more than anything else.

"Jane," he said with a nod. "Down time?"

"Thankfully," she said. "But I just thought you might like to know I okayed Tony Stark for your little party." He frowned before moving past her and down the hall toward the cafeteria. She, of course, followed. "Darcy told me you were going to ask," Jane admitted, as if he needed that clarification. "This is exciting, Bruce," she then said with a good deal of enthusiasm in her tone that told him she meant it.

"I'm sure it will be," Bruce responded evenly, removing his glasses from his face as he walked and slotting them into his pocket. "Not every day we have a celebrity of sorts in our midst. We should feel humbled. The kids will definitely get a kick out of it."

"You're just being obstinate," she chastised him. He just hummed as he made his way to the storage closet on the far side of the cafeteria that had the party supplies.

"Ian," he called to a young student nurse there for the nine week internship, mainly assigned to Darcy although goodness knows she rarely kept close tabs on him, and the scrawny boy looked at him tentatively as though he might be in trouble for not being with Darcy at this very moment. "You're fine," he assured him. "I just need you to go keep an eye out for the cake delivery. It should be arriving soon." The boy nodded and hurried off. Jane was eyeing him with amusement. "What? He is an intern after all."

Jane snorted, but it wasn't three seconds later that she was back to the previous subject.

"You know exactly what I mean about this being exciting." He opened his mouth, but she continued before he could. "You _like_ somebody. That's huge!"

Bruce responded with a snort of his own as he started the process of blowing up balloons with the air pump.

"I don't like him, Jane. Honestly, you're as bad as Darcy. I'm…" He considered his choice of words. "I'm attracted to him perhaps. He's, well, he's definitely handsome and notorious for it so I can hardly be blamed."

"Darcy said you were flirting with him at the restaurant," Jane whispered even though they were the only two there and nudged him gently.

"I—" Bruce started to protest, but he stopped short and shook his head. He then tried again. "I may have interacted with him from across the room, but that's not exactly flirting." She wasn't convinced. He sighed and worked on a few more of the balloons before continuing. "Look, I was interested. I'll admit it. There was a stupidly attractive man paying attention to me. Forgive me for being a little human for once in my life. Of course, it _would_ be my luck he'd go into cardiac arrest right after…and don't you dare make an offensive joke there because I've already endured several from Darcy. I'm going to block her cell. Did you know she actually let him wander the halls just to try and set us up?"

He realized he was rambling, which was unusual for him, when one of the balloons popped from too much air. He startled back to the moment and gripped at his fast-beating heart with a flicker of panic. As for Jane, she had her ears plugged and one eye closed and the other looking at him, having already prepared for it.

"What do you mean forgive you?" Jane continued as if nothing had happened, letting her fingers fall from her ears and fixing him with an incredulous gaze. "I'm _applauding_ you for being a little human for once. Goodness knows _you_ are overdue. And at risk of sounding like a horrible human being, I'd say it's not such bad luck he ended up going into cardiac arrest."

Bruce's eyes widened and he gave a surprised squeak as he looked at her.

"That's horrible."

"I know," she said with a groan. "But think about it. Now you've got a chance to meet him, maybe get to know him a little." He rolled his eyes and finished tying another balloon.

"Look, I'd rather not have to meet people at the risk of their lives if it's all the same." He sighed again. "And it wouldn't work. There's no point in getting to know him, Jane. You understand that much, right?"

"I understand nothing of the sort," she replied. "The guy's rich, smoking hot, and as far as I'm aware unattached. Please, _be human_. You're starting to weird me out a little. Are you looking for an alien instead?" Bruce gave a sharp, quick laugh in spite of himself.

"Maybe. Seems more probable of ending in success than throwing myself at Tony Stark like every other…" He thought better of his comment and shook his head. "Skip it," he finished.

She rolled her eyes, but thankfully didn't press the matter anymore at present.

*

Tony scowled into the small mirror located in the almost equally small hospital bathroom. For not the first time since checking into the place he wondered if he’d made the right decision skimping on the individual adult care outpatient rooms in favor of pouring that savings into inpatient care, especially the children’s wing. Then he recalled Dr. Banner had referred to it as Candy-land and reminded himself of why it was important that he had.

Thinking of Dr. Banner, his scowl deepened. Tony's hair was just shy of a mess and he only had the one pair of sweats and t-shirt he had on that Pepper had brought the day before. And while that would be fine and good at home or in the workshop, it wasn't exactly conducive when he was looking to be at least a little presentable and maintain his reputation. In fact he was starting to feel this side of neurotic about it when there was a sing-song greeting in the room.

“I’m here with the emergency kit, Tony,” Pepper said and he hurried out of the bathroom to make grabby hands for the large overnight bag she set on his bed.

She laughed as he eagerly pulled out his requested clothes which included the nicest pair of dark gray track pants he owned – the ones that cost a ridiculous amount of money and were loose fitting while still making every angle of his lower half look fantastic – and a black Henley shirt. It wasn't a suit set of some sort or even nice fitting jeans and a t-shirt (because he happened to think he looked pretty damn good in t-shirts), but the outfit was at least clean and much more tailored than the lounge wear he currently had on.

"You are a life saver, Pepper. Truly," he said as he quickly hoarded the bag of clothes, and other requested items such as hair product and body spray, with him back to the bathroom.

"Yes," she pitched her voice to be heard as he carefully changed – minding his bruises – "because Tony Stark has to look glamorous while he rests in a hospital bed. Or did they push up your physical therapy from tomorrow to today?"

“No, I’m going to a party,” he called back. He wasn’t surprised when he reopened the bathroom door and she was standing there with an expectant look that had a hint of disbelief and disapproval. “It’s a kid’s party, honestly.” He returned her look with a bemused glance in the mirror when he turned back to finish getting ready.

“A kid’s party?” she echoed in confusion.

"Yeah, didn't you know they're all the rage now?" he asked teasingly.

"Wait," Pepper seemed suddenly intrigued, "are you finally visiting the children's hospital?"

"What do you mean _finally_?" Tony asked dubiously. She sighed and gave him an incredulous tilt forward of her head. "Skip it," he said with a wave of his hand. "But, yes, I'm visiting the children for some little party they're having in about twenty minutes or so. That's why I needed to look semi-decent. Can't let the kiddos get the impression I'm anything but well groomed even in settings such as this."

"Do you really think that's going to help kids who don't have that luxury feel better about themselves? The ones that _live_ in settings such as this?" She frowned and he mirrored it.

"That's not my intention," he said soberly. "I just..." He sighed. He suddenly felt like a horrible person for only visiting the kids because Dr. Banner had invited him and he wanted to hopefully see him again. It wasn’t that he disliked kids or didn’t want to cheer them up if he could either, of course, but he couldn't deny he might not have said yes without a second thought had someone else asked him. "I guess I could use less product than usual," he finished in lame deflection.

"I'm sorry," Pepper apologized. "I didn't mean it that way. I shouldn't have… Look, this is good. I think this is a good thing for you to do."

Tony turned and opened his mouth to reply when the nurse Darcy came into the room with a clipboard. She immediately paused when she noticed them.

"Oh, hey, Mr. Stark," she said cheerfully and gave him an appreciative glance over. "Look at you getting all sexied up for Dr. Banner." She scrunched up her shoulders and pointed at him, looking him up and down a few times more.

Tony gave an unenthusiastic, "Eh-heh." He then reached for the hospital designated slippers he was required to wear. "Because these are as sexy as they come," he said, holding them up as he passed by them both back into the room and over to the hospital bed to put them on.

"You never know," Darcy replied. "Dr. Banner may have a foot fetish. I mean, he's never mentioned it, but he might. Besides, you're already getting away with not wearing the gown outside of check up times," she pointed out. "You can't have everything."

"Blasphemy," Tony quipped.

"Dr. Banner?" Pepper finally interrupted. She'd previously been gaping at their back and forth. Darcy seemed content to field that one before he could manage anything.

The nurse looked at Pepper in a scrutinizing manner and with a big grin said, "Yeah, he's a doctor here. He—"

"—saved Tony's life," Pepper interjected before she could finish.

Tony nearly dropped the second slipper in the process of securing it to his foot. His leg dropped from where it was crossed on his other knee and he looked at the two women in surprise.

"What do you mean?" They looked at him in sync and then Darcy bit her lip and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

"Not sure if he wanted you to know that," she muttered in a slight sing-song.

"Dr. Banner was the emergency responder at the restaurant," Pepper explained regardless and Tony's eyebrows shot upward. "He was there within just a few seconds after you went unconscious. It's the reason they got your heart started back up in a matter of minutes. He gave you CPR and knew you had a heart condition."

Tony blinked several times as he took in the information about that night. Now he understood Dr. Banner's comment about his identification. So as far as he could hypothesize not only was Dr. Banner at his side at lightning speed where it seems his many colleagues, such as Dr. Foster, weren't he was also obviously aware of who he was if he knew he had a heart condition; it had been all over the news after all. He wondered if Dr. Banner had recognized him immediately after they'd started, well, stealing glances across the restaurant; he _did_ seem to close off a little and he'd just assumed he'd gotten the wrong idea about Pepper. Maybe that was why he'd referred to him disdainfully as a celebrity. Maybe Tony was setting himself up for rejection because the guy wasn't interested in someone of his infamy.

"Isn't it super neat," Darcy started again in her energetic tone, breaking through his thoughts, "how the guy he was making eyes at all night ended up being the same guy to save him? I mean, not that it's neat Mr. Stark could have died if he hadn't or anything," she said with a weird chortle. Pepper just looked at her like she might file a complaint against her or something simply for being obnoxious – and that was saying a lot since she'd been his personal assistant for years before becoming his co-CEO.

"Wait, making eyes at?" Pepper's eyes suddenly widened and she turned her head to look at him again. "Is that why you were so distracted at dinner?" Her eyes went slack, but only because she was looking him over as if suddenly she understood.

"Well, that and I was dying apparently," Tony deflected. "Look, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have a party to get to. Kids are notorious sticklers for punctuality. I feel I should be fashionably early for once."

"Dr. Banner is a pediatrician," Darcy stage whispered to Pepper with a melodramatic wink of one eye.

Tony decided that was his cue to leave before any further discussion of the topic could be had. He easily found his way to the children's wing of the hospital since the blueprint of the entire place was ingrained in his eidetic memory. He was admitted by the receptionist, who apparently knew he might come, and directed toward the cafeteria where apparently all who could make it were already gathering.

He moved slowly through the hall, taking in the various rooms as he went. Some had already been updated since the hospital opened in May of 2012, for one reason or another, but the general layout was the same as he'd imagined up. He had wanted it to take the suckiness out of sickness for lack of a better way of putting it, even if only on a superficial level. He'd wanted the kids to have all the same amenities – maybe even more – as they would at home.

As he passed one room he had to stop and move back a few steps in order to do a double-take. He was surprised to see a young boy sitting alone on his bed, hunched over something, rather than at the party. So far all the other rooms he'd passed ion that hall had been empty and there seemed to be no sign of life anywhere. Curiosity got the better of him and Tony moved to the door, realizing on closer inspection the boy was drawing something, and gently knocked on the frame.

"Okay, okay," the boy said, "I'm coming. I just wanted to finish this one panel. Want to see?" He then looked up with a big smile, impossibly endearing, and blue eyes that along with the blonde hair distinctly reminded Tony of an eager golden retriever puppy. The blue eyes grew wide upon registering it wasn't someone he knew and Tony felt like he might be mirroring the expression, minus the jaw drop that accompanied the boy's expression. "You're not Dr. Banner," he said, letting Tony know who he'd assumed was there to fetch him. "You... _You're_..."

"I am," Tony replied with a smile. "Can I come in? And, hey, if the offer is good for other parties, I'd love to see what you were working on," he offered, surprising himself just a little.

"Uh… yeah…" He seemed hesitant at first before suddenly growing visibly excited. "I mean, yes! Please come in and… and sure!" Tony chuckled softly and entered the room.

The boy moved so that he was sitting on edge of his bed, legs dangling over the side. Tony blinked as he took in the kid more fully. He could barely wrap his mind around how fragile he looked. It made his chest twinge slightly, which was weird since he thought he was pretty good at keeping himself from feeling too strongly when it came to these kinds of things. He called it caring without caring too much. Or in other words doing what he could to keep his own vulnerability out of things.

The drawing pad was already held out in offering when he moved to stand a few feet in front of him. Tony took it carefully and then held out his own hand. The boy looked startled for a moment before smiling wide and shaking his hand overmuch; Tony briefly hoped he didn't hurt his thin arm in the process.

"I'm Steve Rogers," he said and Tony smiled at him.

"Steve Rogers, huh?"

"Yes, sir. And I'm a really big fan." Tony gave him a strange look, wondering what about his line of work actually inspired kids beyond the ones that wanted to be rich and glamorous perhaps.

"That so?"

"Yeah, I think it's really swell that you shut down your weapon manufacturing when you realized terrorists were getting hold of your weapons," Steve replied as he let go of Tony's hand finally. He looked down sheepishly. "I wish we didn't have to kill people at all, but I definitely don't want to see bullies using our weapons to kill people. Especially not the civilians my dad died trying to protect."

Tony's eyes widened and his mouth went slightly dry. This boy couldn't be that old and yet he spoke like someone who'd seen a lot of pain in his life and was holding on to idealism. That he had equated Tony Stark with idealism caused another small twinge in his chest.

"Well, I'm glad you approve," Tony said genuinely. "And I'm sorry about your loss," he added as he looked down at the drawing at last.

He was greeted by the sight of an unfinished series of comic panels. The kid was _good._ As far as he could gather from the finished bits, it was about some star-spangled soldier with a shield on his back and a green ogre of some sort.

One speech bubble said, "Hulk not want to fight!" Tony gathered Hulk was the name of the ogre. The one above the soldier said, "I don't want to fight you either, Hulk. But I will if you hurt innocent people."

"Why is the spangly soldier faceless?" Tony asked in genuine curiosity.

"Oh, uh… That's Captain America," Steve explained. "I haven't decided who he should resemble yet. You… You see, I pick people I know or celebrities as inspirations. I tweak it a little of course so it's not an exact likeness and I know it's not exactly ethical, but…"

"Then who's the ogre supposed to resemble?" Tony asked with humor in his tone.

"He's not an ogre exactly," Steve answered quickly. "He's actually a man who was in an accident trying to save a kid and was turned into this monster due to exposure to too much radiation from a gamma bomb." Tony's eyes widened slightly at the prospect. "He doesn't always look like that. It's only when he's really angry or scared or needs to protect himself. He's kind of, I don't know, bipolar? Like, the man has a different name and personality and then Hulk acts like a different entity altogether."

"So, multiple personality disorder?" Tony queried.

"Yeah, that's it. It's like he's two different people even if they're linked."

"Huh. Fascinating," Tony said with a nod as he continued to study the panel. A giant, green, rage monster was pretty imaginative. He scanned the page some more until he found another finished panel. This one included another character that looked like maybe a robot or was it full body metal armor? "Who's the red and gold dude? He doesn't seem to like the Hulk very much."

In fact, the speech bubble said, "Don't try to reason with him, Captain. The Jolly Green Giant only knows how to smash."

To Tony's surprise Steve blushed and looked like he wanted to sink into his bed's mattress until he disappeared.

"That's," he cleared his throat, "that's Iron Man. He and Hulk are kind of enemies right now, but only because Iron Man doesn't know that Hulk is really a man just trying to figure out his condition and tired of being hunted. They… I have this idea… I think it might be cool if they become friends," he tried to explain. 

"Well, that's a classic plot line," Tony said considering it. "Enemies to friends and all that."

"Um, I have a confession," Steve said then in a tentative tone.

Tony stopped studying the drawings and looked at him curiously. The boy got up and moved to his personal desk and pulled out some more drawings; he seemed to have tons. Tony wondered if he might like a digital way of drawing and storing his art; he was no artist, but he knew that was a medium that existed. When Steve grabbed one and brought it over to him, trading it for the drawing pad, Tony understood.

It was a large print of just Iron Man, only the helmet was off and Tony recognized himself in some of the chosen features of the character. He looked down at Steve to see him squirming in embarrassment.

"Please don’t sue me," Steve finally said. "But I thought you were cool and Iron Man's alter ego is really rich and popular so I wanted somebody that was like that to base him off of a little."

"Hey, kid," Tony said in a reassuring tone, "it's cool. This is fine. I'm flattered actually. Besides, I don't sue kids. Especially not kids in hospitals." He looked down at him with a smirk. "I'm a jerk, but not that much of a jerk." He then considered something else and decided to get it out into the open so not to give the kid any wrong ideas. He pointed at the drawing. "This doesn't mean you have some crush on me does it?"

Steve's eyes widened in shock and he actually took a very large step back as if repelled.

"No! No, I-I don't, honest! I just think you're super cool." He shook his head firmly. "You… No offense, but you're old enough to be my dad."

Tony barked out a laugh in spite of the round-about way he'd just been called old.

"Okay, okay. I was honestly just checking. Didn't want it to be weird or to get your hopes up since, yes, I'm old enough to be your dad," he explained. He then studied Steve carefully as something occurred to him in the exchange. "But you know it's okay, right? If you did have a crush on me?" Steve's eyes widened. "It's okay if you like guys, Steve."

"I-I don't…" The boy clearly look flustered and conflicted. "I might… I do, but…" Tony stopped him there with a raised hand and gave him back the picture. Steve took it and set it down. 

"No need to worry about it right now. You've got plenty of time ahead of you. How old are you anyways?"

"I’m eleven, going on twelve," he answered with his back still turned. Tony thought he looked closer to ten because he was so slight, but he didn't say it.

"See, plenty of time to figure it out," he said instead. "So what are you in for, Steve?" He then decided to ask because he _was_ curious. Steve immediately tensed and Tony thought better of the insensitive question.

"You don't have to answer that, Steve," came Dr. Banner's gentle voice from the doorway and they both turned in surprise to see him standing there watching them. Tony met his eyes immediately, but the gaze wasn't held for long as Dr. Banner looked back at Steve and then came further into the room and toward the boy. Tony was the spectator now as the doctor placed a reassuring hand on Steve's shoulder and the boy looked up at him like he was the most important person in the world. "How are you feeling? Are you coming to the party?"

"I'm fine." Steve nodded. "I just got working on a panel and couldn't stop," he explained. "And then," he looked over at Tony, "Mr. Stark stopped by." He looked back up at Dr. Banner with a wide grin. "You invited him, didn't you? So I could meet him?"

Dr. Banner smiled as well and Tony felt a little lightheaded. He hadn't seen the man truly smile. Not like that anyhow.

"It might have crossed my mind," he answered in a light tone.

"Thank you!" Steve flung his arms around him, clearly taking Dr. Banner off guard as he took an awkward step backward.

Tony felt the twinge in his chest turn into an uncomfortable, if not unpleasant, swell. As he studied them both he wasn't quite sure what he had just walked into, but he was sure it was _something_.


	4. Chapter 4

Bruce couldn’t help the way his lips turned upwards at the edges while all the kids at the party flocked around Tony Stark. He might not fully understand the man’s celebrity status, although he certainly had a decent amount of academic respect for him, but the kids couldn’t believe they were actually talking to someone famous. Jemma especially had been keen on quizzing him for the first ten minutes of the party until her attention was called elsewhere. Now Natasha had commandeered most of the man’s company and Bruce couldn’t help but be amused by it as he lingered nearby enough to listen in.

“I’d rather have met your co-CEO Pepper Potts,” she said in a scrutinizing tone. “I hear she’s helped make the company what it is.”

“She has,” Tony replied breezily. “Which is precisely why I brought her on. I knew she’d be what the company needs.”

“Not because you were having a breakdown and needed help keeping the business afloat or because you were sweet on her?” Natasha challenged with a raised eyebrow. Bruce's amusement turned into a frown, but Tony seemed to take it in stride.

“The breakdown thing may be a little true. I wasn’t in a great place at the time. But. It was still a good idea for the company even if I had been. I am definitely not a great CEO,” he poked fun at himself.

Natasha hummed as if in approval of his self-assessment and response. Bruce tried not to give her too hard of a look of disapproval in return. She was just being who she was and didn’t mean any real harm by it… he hoped.

“Is it true you sleep with anything that walks?” Phil, just as invasive as his adopted sister, asked next in a calm tone. The boy then very clearly looked at Steve as if the question was meant for him. Natasha followed suit in looking at Steve as if she understood the meaning as well, though he noticed not without a glance at him too with a raised brow.

Bruce ignored the strange glance his way because he was too busy being just a little bit angry as all of his instincts were telling him to protect Steve. Before eavesdropping on some of Steve’s conversation with Stark he maybe wouldn’t have quite understood. But Stark had posed the question of whether or not Steve had an innocent crush on him and now it seemed abundantly clear that Phil and Natasha had jumped to the same conclusion. They didn’t seem to approve of the idea – or at the very least Phil certainly didn’t - but that didn't give them a right to try bullying tactics in order to dissuade him. 

And Steve wasn't the only one this could make uncomfortable. Bruce saw Stark's clear hesitance in answering and decided to intervene.

"You don't have to answer that," he told him. Stark looked at him for a moment, biting the corner of his lip as if considering.

"I most definitely have never slept with _anything_ that walks," he said, looking back at Phil. "That's definitely not a thing. But I _have_ been notorious in my, uh, habits where relationships are concerned." He looked at Bruce again. "It's not exactly a chapter in my life I'm proud of anymore, but it _is_ a chapter."

Bruce held his gaze for what felt like at least a few long moments. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like in that moment Stark wasn't responding to Phil's question just to respond rather meaning it for him to hear. He wasn't sure how to feel about that possibility.

"It's not like it's a big deal either way," Steve tried to defend the billionaire, breaking them both from their stare. Bruce turned his head in time to see him finish a shrug. "I mean, just because some of us think you should stick to one person as long as you can doesn't mean everybody has to. Maybe none of them felt right." Stark gave him another quick glance and then smiled at Steve.

"Thanks, Steve," Tony said in an earnest tone. "I won't say I gave many of them a chance to feel right though. I had, uh, commitment issues I suppose. But that's the least of the demons in my closet and, hey, none of us are defined by things like that. At least I'd like to think so." Bruce smiled softly at the little impromptu speech.

"Well said," Dr. Xavier interjected as he joined them then. "It's quite true. You must all remember that you are more than the sum of your parts. You each hold great potential for shaping the course not only of your own lives, but of history. Who one has a relationship with is not an end all of that potential unless you allow it to be."

The kids looked at him like he held all the answers in the world. Maybe he did. The man wasn't merely a pediatrician. He was also a pediatric geneticist and a child psychiatrist – in addition to his having obtained PhDs in so many other areas Bruce had just given up trying to keep it all straight. Thus, he was quite one of the busiest in the entire hospital and that was without his having gone and acquired a teaching license to help the patients who were also students when he had time to. Bruce knew he himself was in the top ten of highest IQs in the world, but Dr. Xavier practically put him to shame with his relentless pursuit of knowledge.

And so naturally the jerk also still looked like an Oxford school boy with auburn curls and cherry lips and flawless skin and blue eyes that had made more than one single – and certainly a few married – parent fall a little in love with him while he cared for their child. Bruce felt a sudden and ridiculous urge to prevent him and Stark from meeting. He squashed it of course.

"So how about we not badger Mr. Stark anymore about his romantic interests and all go have some of the wonderful cake dear Jemma is about to cut, yeah?" Charles posed the question with a smile. He was the kind of man who called children darlings and meant it. They all teased him that he would adopt more kids than the Jolie-Pitt family if he could. Instead he'd settled for this line of work and seeing as the kids scattered eagerly at his mere suggestion he'd obviously made the right call.

"Mr. Stark, this is Dr. Xavier," Bruce introduced them when the kids were gone. Better to just get it out of the way he thought. He then reminded himself that if he had no plans of being interested in Stark then he should probably act like it.

"Charles," Stark said and reached out his hand. Bruce blinked as Charles easily took it.

"Tony," he said with a smile. "It's been a minute or two, hasn't it?" he asked with a soft chuckle.

Bruce looked back and forth between them. He'd be lying if he said of the many scenarios of how they might know one another that were running through his head  _none_ of them involved compromising positions. Scenarios he had no right contemplating.

"The Xavier money may be older than the Stark, but our fortunes have put us in the same circles often," Stark supplied helpfully, perhaps noticing his confusion.

"And the same beds," Charles said shamelessly.

"Ah, tut-tut-tut," Stark practically hissed. "No need to give Dr. Banner here the wrong idea." 

"Right, of course," Charles said with a laugh and looked at him. "He means never at the same time, Bruce." Bruce gave a small nod and looked between them. Stark had a tight smile on his face. "We decided a long time ago never to cross that particular bridge."

"Bruce?" Stark's entire demeanor changed suddenly and he looked at him like he was a ghost. Anything Charles had said seemed secondary.

"Uh, yeah," Bruce replied, uncertain of the change. "That's… That's my name. Bruce Banner."

"Tread carefully, Bruce," Charles said in a teasing tone. "Tony has that look in his eyes." He then excused himself with a, "Well, nice to see you, Tony. Let's catch up soon."

"That look, huh?" Bruce tried to diffuse the slight awkwardness of the situation and immediately realized he had no clue what 'that look' might possibly entail and may have just made it more awkward.

Whatever it entailed, his question caused Stark to blink away whatever it was he'd been thinking because he very casually said, "Bruce is a nice name." Bruce fluttered his eyes in confusion.

"Um, thanks?"

"Can I call you Bruce or is that crossing some doctor-patient boundary?" Bruce wasn't sure he should answer that question.

"Well, technically you're not my patient," he hedged. "But it may be appropriate for you to address me as Dr. Banner at least when you're in front of my patients."

"Understandable," Stark said with a nod. Then with far too cunning of a smile he said, "So I guess the solution here is for us to talk sometime when you're not with patients."

"Um—"

"Maybe I can treat you to a nice, hardy hospital cafeteria lunch while I'm here," Stark suggested and as playful as it sounded, Bruce was fairly certain it was a legitimate offer. "Or maybe if you have a break you can swing by my room. We can play checkers while the other doctors and patients whisper about what we're doing."

"Delightful," Bruce deadpanned, but had to admit he found Stark amusing.

"It would be," the other man said with a bright smile.

"Mr. Stark!" Jemma came bounding over at that moment. "Would you like some cake and punch?" She looked up at him with doe eyes and Stark's bright smile somehow only got brighter.

"I would love some," he answered with a nod. "Hopefully that won't interfere with whatever meds they have me on?" He looked at Bruce with a raised eyebrow.

"Should be fine. Just not too much," Bruce advised.

"Got it," Tony said and then let Jemma lead him over to the cake and punch.

Bruce watched with no small amount of fondness that he refused to analyze. Attraction was one thing. Fondness had no business rearing its head.

\-----

"You know, not to be a pest—"

"Of course not," Dr. Foster said with a roll of her eyes.

"—but none of this makes any sense," Tony continued as he finished another rep of lunges, just the current of many exercises she'd required him to do. "I know how to walk. I know how to run. My coordination is flawless. Why do I have to waste my time with this?"

"Because, Mr. Stark. Just because you could do those things perfectly before doesn't mean there might not have been neurological complications when your heart stopped. The brain-heart connection is fragile and we're making sure your brain still knows how to send appropriate signals to the rest of you in conjunction with the pacemaker."

Tony opened his mouth and then shut it again. He recalled the, what felt like, endless hours of physical therapy for exactly that reason after his heart surgery. Dr. Yinsen had worked tirelessly with him, monitored him with a matchless dedication, in order to get him healthy again. To give him a second chance because Yinsen had believed Tony could be great, should be great.

"Fair enough," he replied, if only out of respect for Yinsen. He'd now managed to get a _second_ , second chance not to waste his life as Yinsen had urged him years prior. "What next?" Dr. Foster laughed.

"No, we're done," she said. "There don't seem to be any problems at this point. I think it's safe to call it a day. We'll monitor you for a few more days and then do a physical followed by some final scans. If everything checks out, you should be able to get back to your life." Tony let out a heavy breath of relief.

"So we're for sure done here?" She nodded.

"I'll send Darcy in a few minutes to escort you back to your room." He scowled a little at her. "You need a little bit of rest after that," she said firmly. "Especially if you have lunch plans," she added with a knowing grin.

His eyes widened in surprise as he watched her leave, but his face melted into a smile at the confirmation that Bruce might have taken him up on his offer from the day before. He then shook his head and looked around at the large room, taking in the sights and sounds as he waited obediently – if not still a little petulantly – for Darcy. His eyes fell on a familiar face sat on a bench in one corner and he immediately made his way over.

"That can't be good for your posture," Tony said and the kid looked up at him immediately, stopping whatever drawing he was working on this time.

"Hi, Mr. Stark," Steve said with a smile. "You here for p.t. too?"

"Just finished," Tony answered him.

"I'm waiting for Dr. Erskine to arrive for my session," the boy explained and scooted down a little on the bench in silent invitation. Tony found it a little surprising how easily he accepted it, sitting down beside him.

"You're really good, Steve," he said, glancing down at the paper that had what looked like a comic cover. He studied it carefully. "Hulk Is Where the Heart Is?"

"Oh, um, yeah…" Steve seemed sheepish for some reason. "I decided... I think it's time to try creating an arc where Iron Man learns about the man who turns into the Hulk."

"This I've got to read," Tony said with a wide grin and genuine curiosity. "In fact, I'd love to read your other stuff you've finished. Unless you mind." Steve seemed surprised, but then nodded.

"I… I wouldn't mind. Pretty much everybody has read them. Well, most of them." Tony wondered at that, but decided not to push. The boy was a tween after all. Maybe there were some things he'd drawn or written he wasn't quite comfortable with sharing for one reason or another. There was a moment of silence between them until Steve broke it again with, "I’m sick." Tony blinked.

"Okay," he said for lack of any other response.

"I mean, you asked me yesterday what I'm in for and, well, the easiest way of putting it is I'm sick," he said with a shrug. "There's not many things I'm _not_ in for."

"Oh," Tony replied. "Well, you seem pretty healthy to me," he offered and hoped it wasn't insensitive. He also suddenly hoped the boy wasn't dying because that just didn't seem right or fair in any sense of the words. It made his stomach lurch to think about this charming boy having only so long to live.

"I'm getting better," Steve replied and Tony let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding as he'd considered Steve's prognosis. "Dr. Erskine thinks if I keep up at the rate I'm going, in a few more years, I should be nearly as healthy as the other kids my age. Although I'll probably always have some things, like my arrhythmia."

"Well, all the best people do," Tony said with a small nudge of Steve's small shoulder. "I have it. Bradycardia to be specific," he disclosed.

"Really?" Steve looked up at him. Tony nodded. "Then I guess if you have it I could handle it. I'd like to get rid of most of the other stuff though. Like my annoying asthma especially," he said with a sigh.

"I'm sure your mom wouldn't mind what you still had if you were healthy enough to deal with it at home," Tony offered. He immediately realized that must have been the wrong thing to say because Steve seemed to tense and collapse in on himself all at once.

"My mom's dead," he said and Tony practically gaped. "She… She was living in Brooklyn when 9/11 happened. She was a first responder," he explained and Tony listened with a crease in his brow. "She got really, really sick from the fall out. Some kind of neurological thing I guess." He shrugged. "I guess her immune system was already kind of shot, but she never really could shake it. She had me and I was sickly and then when I was four she got really sick again, only that time she didn't get better. I was moved around in the foster system after that. Nobody keeps me around because, well, I'm a sick kid and that costs money."

Tony wasn't sure what to say as he processed Steve's story. Finally he said the only thing that came to mind, worry for the kid's fate urging the thought forward.

"And… now? The family you're with now? Are they… different?"

He wondered at how long he'd been here at Yinsen Memorial. He wondered if even now his current fosters were contemplating sending him away, now when Steve seemed hopeful that he was getting better with the very best care that this hospital tried to give the patients fortunate to be there.

"We're not really a family," Steve started in a tentative tone. "But about four years ago Natasha's and Phil's adoptive dad was looking for another sick kid in the system he might be able to help. He got my file from my case manager and decided I was good enough as any I guess. He brought me out here and told me he wanted to help me get the care I needed. He said there was this thing called the SHIELD fund and that the waiting list was long because the hospital hadn't opened yet. But I guess he had a few strings he'd pulled for Natasha and Phil and he wanted to try and get the fund for me too." Steve paused. He had absentmindedly started drawing again as he explained the situation he'd found himself in. "Whether it was because he pulled some strings or because I qualified as an applicant I got the fund a little bit after the hospital opened. I've been here since."

"You've been here since?" Tony's eyebrows shot up as his mind swam a little. 

"Yeah," Steve said with a nod. "I get to go to school a day or two a week when I'm feeling healthy enough, or out and about every now and then, but I was pretty bad off a few years ago so it just seemed like a good idea to let me use the fund for full inpatient care until I'm well enough that I don't need it anymore. Our for as long as the fund holds out," he added solemnly. Tony sucked in a breath.

"You're afraid you might lose the fund and then…" He couldn't finish. Steve hitched a shoulder.

"And then I guess Nick'll decide whether or not to keep me around anymore. I'm grateful to him and I know he cares, but he won't adopt me. I'm not stupid. I know he won't or he would have tried already. And without the fund, who knows if he'll be able to afford me. So I try not to think about it. I— I don't really want to leave here. It's not really a family, but being here kind of feels like home now."

Tony furrowed his brow deeply as he considered everything Steve had said. He couldn't fathom what the boy had gone through or his waking up everyday feeling uncertain about how things might turn out for him. He glanced up when he saw Darcy out of the corner of his eyes, but at the moment he didn't want to leave the frail young kid with no real family to call his own.

"Hey, Steve. I've got to get back and rest. Doctor's orders," he said after another moment. Steve stopped drawing and looked up at him as he stood. "But I'm hopefully going to be talking to Dr. Banner in a little bit," he shared, "so how about I ask him to arrange some kind of powwow for you and me for whenever you're feeling up to it. Then I can read through your comics and, you know, just chill with you a bit."

"You're not pitying me are you?" Steve narrowed his gaze. He suddenly had a self-righteous sort of indignation written all over his face. 

"Maybe a little," Tony replied honestly. "But I also would have made that suggestion if you had two awesome parents who were filthy rich," he said earnestly. "You're pretty cool and you're a fan so why wouldn't I be interested in hanging with you?" He gave Steve a shrug and reassuring smile. 

"In that case," Steve dropped his gaze back down to his drawing pad and smiled, "I'd like that a lot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I claim no knowledge of the extent of the fall out damage from 9/11. Anything I know about it is from a few 9/11 documentaries that touched on the subject. So with Steve's mom, it's implied she was already a little on the frail-health side (adding to Steve's less than stellar genetics) before that happened.   
> 2\. Friendly reminder I'm bs-ing most of this. I had to have Tony have physical therapy so he could have his conversation with Steve. I really have no clue if he would have needed it. Maybe they go to extreme measures with patient care at Yinsen Memorial *shrug*


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce frowned as he looked at the desperate man in front of him. He was there for the third time in as many weeks. His daughter had a congenital heart disease and had been in and out of outpatient care at another hospital. The man's small bit of insurance and several jobs covered those bills as best as they could, but recently things had gone from bad-albeit-manageable to worse-and-dire when his daughter's heart had begun to show signs of fatal failure.

The other hospital had, naturally, urged immediate surgery. Surgery, of course, that he couldn't ever begin to pay for. The hospital had referred him to several charities including Yinsen Memorial's surgery SHIELD fund which usually was approved within 1 to 3 weeks, varying case to case. It was for those surgeries that were needed within a timely manner, but not yet an emergency matter. In his daughter's case, they'd expected her to be approved for the fund and have a surgery date set by Dr. Sondheim, the top heart and neurological pediatrician and adult care specialist in the world, by now. They'd urged him not to wait until the approval, but the man had been intimidated by his previous experiences with insurance difficulties. It was something they saw far too often.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lang," he apologized deeply. "We haven't heard anything yet about Cassie being approved."

"But you said it might come through Friday. I waited all weekend, Dr. Banner," Scott Lang said earnestly. "I tried, but I couldn't wait any longer. What happened?" Bruce sighed and shrugged.

"I can't really say," he said honestly. "We warned you it was only a possibility and not a guarantee. Funds almost always get approved and pushed through on Fridays, but for some reason there weren’t any funds that came through this time. We're just as in the dark as you are." Lang's eyes widened in obvious panic.

"I _have_ to have that fund. Cassie's life depends on it," he said with fatherly conviction. Bruce kept his face schooled in neutrality, but he'd seen Cassie's file when she came in for the free consultation they offered there. It might not be an emergency yet, but it was true she didn't have much time left and if nothing was done soon an emergency operation would be necessary. And emergency operations were never ideal. "You don't think they've stopped altogether do you? They're going to give out more, right?"

Bruce licked his suddenly dry lips at the prospect. His mind went immediately to Steve, but he didn't have time to let himself be anything but professional. He needed to offer Mr. Lang reassurance. 

"I haven't heard anything to be concerned about," he stated truthfully, a reminder to himself as well that there was no need to jump to conclusions. The father hung his head and shook it in despair.

"How long am I supposed to wait? How long am I supposed to just sit by and watch my little girl get worse? I _can't_ lose her, doctor."

Bruce sighed and removed his glasses. He fiddled with them for a moment as he considered the situation carefully. Finally he closed his eyes and gave a small nod. He knew the marks of a man at the end of his rope and ready to take whatever drastic measures need be. It was, sadly, a bit of an instinct he had from personal experience. He opened his eyes again and made one last study of the man before making his decision.

"As we've told you before, you shouldn't wait at all." Lang started to protest, but Bruce barrelled on as he quickly pulled up the surgery schedule to see when Dr. Sondheim's next availability was. "Bring Cassie in tomorrow morning, Mr. Lang," he told him as he added Cassie to the agenda and sent a note with the scheduling to Erica. "I know you're concerned about the cost, I do. You're afraid that you're behind the eight ball and life will find a way to screw you over." Lang nodded, his brow creased with regret and guilt among all his other emotions. "I get it, but SHIELD is not the only fund out there should it not come in later. Okay? It will be fine and right now what matters is Cassie. I promise you it will be covered."

Lang's expression brightened hopefully, manically and he asked, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Bruce nodded.

"Thank you, Dr. Banner! Thank you!" He shook his hand in grateful elation, having seen the light at last. "I'll bring Cassie in tomorrow. No more waiting." He then turned to leave. 

"And, Mr. Lang," Bruce called after him before he could get away. "I also think you should schedule one of the complimentary parent sessions with Dr. Samson. I'm aware how difficult this has been for you. You should get some of it off of your chest for your own good."

Lang just gave a furtive nod and then hurried off, leaving Bruce alone to sigh. He wasn’t alone for long however. Thor came up beside him a short moment later, shaking his head sadly.

"I hope Erica can help his poor daughter."

"Me too. She’s so young." He sighed as the heaviness of his job settled over him. He could promise the coverage of cost, but they could never guarantee a successful recovery no matter what the odds told them. "But others have been younger."

Thor looked at him solemnly and they were silent for a moment as if in shared honor of those lives that hadn’t made it and perhaps in shared sober understanding of those that still might not.

"There is a baby in intensive care this very moment that I fear won’t make it," Thor spoke in a low voice.

Bruce looked at the large man sadly. Anybody who looked at him would think him better suited to mixed martial arts or some other athletic profession. He perhaps even looked a little like he could be a successful mercenary or bodyguard. But while he certainly was athletic, he had a very big heart to go along with his size and stature and wished to protect the little lives that came into the world as best he could. It was maybe an oxymoron that the massive, muscled man was on his way to being a baby doctor, but he was serious about the vocation he pursued. He always said he'd courted war in his youth, which Bruce had never really thought to ask the meaning of and if it was only metaphorical, but something had humbled him and set him on a different path. Bruce could certainly relate.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he finally said.

“These are not happy matters,” Thor said then and forced a small, but genuine smile. He clasped Bruce’s arm as if they were brothers-in-arms; perhaps in a way they were as doctors. “It’s your lunch break. You should go take a breather and think of better things.”

"Well," Bruce hesitated, "I was considering having lunch with Mr. Stark…” Thor’s smile turned beaming.

“Yes. Good. You should.”

“Should I?” Bruce asked. He needed a more sensible opinion, with all due respect to Jane, Darcy and now Charles.

“I think so,” the other doctor affirmed with a nod. “He seems like a good man. And he’s a genius is he not?” Bruce nodded. “You seem to get along so why not try to make a new friend?”

“Ah…” Bruce wasn’t sure how to reply to that, but Thor seemed to understand and his smile widened.

“And if it leads to more then maybe that’s all the better. But this is just lunch.”

“I guess that’s true,” Bruce replied in consideration.

Maybe he was over complicating things; it certainly wouldn't be the first time. He _had_ been attracted after all and so far the other man was pleasant company no matter how much disparity between them he assumed there was. Maybe there wasn’t anything wrong in getting to know him better if Stark was interested. As if a final push in that direction Steve suddenly appeared with a folder.

“Are you going to have lunch with Tony?” He looked up at him hopefully.

“I think so,” Bruce answered with a smile, and wondered at how easily Steve had taken to the man.

“Good. Do you think you can give him these to look at? He wants to read some of my comics and you know I have a lot so I thought he could get started when he’s bored in his room.” Bruce continued to smile as he took the folder in hand reverently.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate the entertainment,” he said and made his decision. “I’ll see you later. And don’t forget, rest.” Steve always needed extra rest after his physical therapy sessions.

“I know, I know." Steve huffed. He then smiled wide. "Have fun with Tony, Dr. Banner.”

“I’ll try,” Bruce said with a small chuckle and tried to ignore the conspiratorial glance between the boy and Dr. Blake.

\-----

Tony was in the middle of watching Downton Abbey on his laptop, wondering why in the world his friend Happy had suggested it. It was a little ridiculous, but he didn’t have anything better to do and he’d given up hope that Dr. Banner was going to show up. Of course that was precisely when Bruce decided to come into the room, as quiet as a mouse, and startle him just as it was sort of getting somewhat interesting.

“Downton Abbey, huh?” Bruce queried with a raised eyebrow and then, probably because it was instinct, looked over his charts and drips. “You seem to be close to getting out of here,” he said.

“In a hurry to get rid of me?” Tony asked with a smirk as he ignored the query about Downton Abbey and closed his laptop.

“Yes,” Bruce replied dryly, but then looked at him with a small smirk of his own.

“And just when we were finally on a first name basis.” Tony pouted melodramatically.

“You assume we’re on a first name basis,” Bruce countered, still smiling thinly in amusement.

“No, I don’t think so, Bruce,” he said impishly as he pushed himself out of the bed and stood.

“Oh, well in that case,” Bruce replied, still in a dry tone that somehow managed to be ridiculously endearing, “stay there and I’ll go get you a wheelchair, Tony.” Tony’s eyes widened, but he decided to play along.

“If being wheeled around by an attractive doctor is the trade off for having said attractive doctor say my name,” and he made sure to leer just a little to make his point known that he meant it, “then by all means I’ll wait while you go get the wheelchair.”

“Oh god,” Bruce replied with a small huff of a laugh. “You’re impossible aren’t you?”

“The hypothesis has been put forth a few times, yes.”

"Well, I'm not one to argue with the scientific method," Bruce bantered, or at least it felt like bantering and Tony was already hooked. "But I'm also on a limited schedule so we should probably get going."

Tony nodded, smiling and they began the trek to the inpatient cafeteria  As they walked in a companionable silence Tony noted the folder in Bruce's hand with curiosity. It was almost as if the doctor had forgotten he even had it as they walked through the line to get their meals and sat down. It sat underneath Bruce's tray as little more than a place mat until finally Tony had to ask.

"Anything important?" He pointed at it with his fork. The other man furrowed his brow and followed the line of the fork until clarity dawned on him in a rather, well, adorable sort of way.

"Oh," he said, seeming flustered. "Oh, yes," he continued with a nod and carefully extricated the folder. He examined it closely, opening it as well to look at the inside, in a manner that suggested he'd be devastated if there was even a wrinkle. "It's some of Steve's comics. He wanted me to pass them along to you for reading if you'd like," he explained and held out the folder.

Tony wasn't one to take things handed to him so easily, but he found Bruce handing him something didn't make him feel uncomfortable. He also realized even if it did he would make an exception just to quickly grab the folder with the comics he definitely wanted to read. He also realized why Bruce had been so worried about any damage.

"I'd like," he said with a smile and opened the folder for a small assessment of the contents. There seemed to be about three or four would-be issues inside. "I was telling Steve I'd love to come visit sometime while I'm still here and read over his comics. He's got real talent it looks like." He closed the folder again and set it aside.

"He does," Bruce agreed, smiling fondly. "And he has plenty more, trust me. It would probably take you the better part of an afternoon to get through the ones he's willing to share with you," the doctor said before taking another bite of his food.

"Well, if I'm able and he's feeling up to it, I'd be down," Tony told him what he'd already told Steve. Bruce nodded, giving a considering look.

"I'm probably going to be working with Dr. Sondheim tomorrow for the day, but I'll see if I can't arrange it. Dr. Xavier is covering me I believe so I'll leave a note with him to check Steve to see if he's up to it and I'll speak to Dr. Foster."

"Or you can just talk to Darcy and it'll probably get to Dr. Foster," Tony quipped and Bruce snorted.

"That's true. Or you could too. I'm sure she'll assault one of us as soon as she can after we're done here," he joked, eyes looking upward in exasperation even though he seemed to be used to it enough to also smile.

"Well if it's me, I might just tell her we never made it to lunch because we got a little distracted by something in my room," Tony teased, unable to resist. Bruce immediately looked a little flustered.

"Please don't," he said with a shake of his head. "I don't want to have to look for a new job."

"Since you said please," he replied with a smirk. After a moment of silence that was just this side of awkward, not in the bad way rather the way that implied it was actually going well and there might be mutual attraction there so he'd better ease up on the gas a little, Tony decided he needed to find a safer topic. He glanced at the folder again and said, "You know, back to the subject of Steve, I'd say he has a bright future ahead of him." He took a bite of his own food and mulled over a thought that had struck him a little earlier. "So if he's ever interested I know some people who could probably get him published." He then scrunched his nose thoughtfully. "And on the slight chance I don't, I could always get to know some and then pass along the recommendation." Tony couldn't explain it, but he wanted this kid to be happy, healthy, and successful.

“Sounds nice…” Bruce replied in a distracted tone. Tony glanced up from his food to look at him strangely. That wasn’t the kind of response he’d expected from someone who clearly cared for the boy.

“You with me there, Brucey?” Tony asked lightly. Sure enough the nickname caused Bruce to come back to the moment and he blinked a few times, small crease in his forehead for what reason Tony could only guess.

“Um, yeah, sorry. Sorry, I just…” He sighed and looked down at his food, pushing some pasta salad around a little before dropping his fork. “I was thinking about this little girl who needs a heart surgery. If she doesn’t get it soon… there might not be a happy ending.” Tony frowned. “Her father can’t afford it so he's been applying for assistance. He applied for this thing. It's like a scholarship," he explained. "It’s called the SHIELD fund and it would pay for everything the girl needs."

"Oh, that's good," Tony said neutrally as he tried to read Bruce's expression. He didn't seem convinced that it was a good thing. "Is there a problem?"

"I... don't know," Bruce answered hesitantly. "You see, based on how it usually works, I expected her fund to be approved on Friday at the latest." Tony nodded as he listened, brow furrowed in concentration and concern. "But it wasn't. Nobody's was as far as I'm aware. Her father was here right before I came to meet you. He… he was pretty hysterical of course. He… he made this comment about maybe the funds being stopped altogether." Tony's eyebrows shot up as Bruce's knitted together.

"That would be bad," Tony said. "Steve mentioned he's here on the SHIELD fund." Tony paused and then continued tentatively, "He seemed a little uncertain about what might happen if… well, if it stopped. What would happen to him since that's what's keeping him here," Tony explained.

He saw the answer flit across Bruce's face as soon as he said it before the man even confessed,"That… That was what I was thinking about, honestly. It would affect so many people," he hedged, but then sighed, "but Steve's so close to getting healthy and I don't know… maybe if he's healthy, he wouldn't have to move somewhere else again. I just… I have to admit what that girl's father said has me a little rattled. I… I want Steve to have a bright future," he said with firm conviction.

Tony nodded. He understood somehow. It should worry him perhaps, but he could think about that later. Right now he wanted to reassure Bruce that Steve's bright future would happen, that his fears regarding the fund were unfounded. Anything other than Steve getting healthy could absolutely _never_ happen. Tony was invested enough already to realize he would do anything to make certain it never happened.

"He'll be okay, Bruce," Tony tried, looking long and determined at the doctor.

"I want to believe that, but this job…" He looked back slowly. "It's dangerous to let yourself think too hopefully about the future."

"Seems a little dangerous not to let yourself think hopefully about the future," Tony countered in earnest consideration. Bruce blinked at him, but there was still a remnant of sadness in his features. "Sure, you've got to make the most of today. I get that. But you have to believe the future will come because it just might. If you think it won't, well, it just might not." He shrugged as he reasoned through his inferences regarding the matter. Bruce's lips were pursed and his face scrunched as if trying to process it. "Or maybe I'm just a futurist," Tony conceded with his own sigh. "I have a hard time seeing it any other way." Bruce's face softened finally.

"Then, by all means, don't let me stop you. And… I hope you're right, Tony," he added. Tony gave him a soft smile in return and decided that was probably a good place to leave the touchy subject for now.

There was silence between them for a few moments. The time was occupied instead by their eating, Bruce staring around at the various other people in the cafeteria, and Tony pulling out his phone to send a quick message to Pepper letting her know they needed to talk later.

"So what made you decide to become a doctor?" Tony asked, breaking it once he'd gotten a response from Pepper that she'd be by with Rhodey in a couple of hours. It was a question that he was keen to get an answer to. "I mean, I've never understood the whole MD as a dream job thing."

"It's not," Bruce said with enough conviction that Tony cocked his head. "It's hell a lot of times. But I was in a bad way 12 years ago," he said vaguely and with just enough deliberateness in his tone that it told Tony he wasn't going to get the full back story that easily. "It shifted my perspective on things. I… Well, I got low," he said and Tony's eyes widened. He wondered how low Bruce meant. Was it 'hard to get out of bed' low or 'drink until you pass out' low (Tony knew that one well enough) or was it something worse? Was it 'put a bullet in your mouth' low? "Becoming a doctor, helping people, specifically the kids I wouldn't be able to have…" For a split second he looked like he had confessed something he hadn't meant to and only realized it after the fact, but then he schooled his face again. Tony knew well enough not to let on he'd heard or had any commentary on the matter. "Well, it helped me. I hate it sometimes, I've considered quitting more than once, and I don't remember the last time I got a good night of sleep, but most days it's not a career choice I regret making."

Tony let Bruce's words settle in. He finished his meal and wiped his hands with his napkin before balling it up and tossing it down onto his plate. If Bruce expected him to respond right away, he didn't give any outward sign of it. Rather, he just finished his own lunch and then took a long swig of his bottled water to wash it down. Tony would just about kill for a coffee right about now, but caffeine wasn't allowed until he was discharged. He suddenly wondered if Bruce liked coffee and what kind and if he survived his long hours chugging it down like water. He suddenly wondered _a lot_ of things about Bruce. Suddenly he wanted more lunches, maybe some dinners, just more time spent with him, learning about him, or maybe just being quiet like this with him.

He pushed that all out for dwelling on later and instead said, "So, you got low and decided to become a pediatrician. That's quite a big step." Depending on what you were doing before," he then said tentatively, glancing at Bruce for any outward reaction. There wasn't one. "And, honestly, can't say I could do it," he admitted. "People have this idea about me," he started carefully, "that I'm a selfish, spoiled, egotistic asshole. And they're not wrong. But at the same time… I'm not," he confessed with a shrug. Bruce raised one eyebrow above his glasses. "I mean, I _care_. About people," he explained. "Seeing all those kids, kids like Steve, that…" He shook his head. "I wish I could just, I don't know, wave my hand and make all of them better again. Maybe it's the philanthropist in me, but if I could find a way to wipe out sickness I would." Bruce's other eyebrow joined it's partner. "But I can't. And it pisses me off a little when I can't fix things. So I don't think I could put myself in an environment with so many unknowns on a regular basis. Not with all of the other sacrifice to your personal life that goes along with it," he said knowingly.

"But you're a genius scientist," he pointed out with a furrowed brow and Tony felt a little foolish over how nice the compliment felt coming from him. "You of all people have to know not everything can be fixed. There are unknowns." Tony tilted his head sideways in consideration.

"Sure, but engineering is my mainstay. Tech, machines, blueprints. If something doesn't work, I go back to the drawing board until it does. Granted not often," he added jokingly, letting out a soft bark of laughter. Bruce gave a thin smile, clearly amused, but also rolled his eyes slightly. "The point is I have control over the variables."

"Most of the time," Bruce muttered, sounding a little bitter. Tony studied him and wondered if he'd meant for him to hear.

"That's a fair point," Tony conceded, letting the other man know that he had. Bruce blinked at him a few times. "There's always risk in science. I just don't think I could do what you're doing here on a daily basis." Bruce sighed and nodded, eyes closed.

"I understand your point." He then met Tony's eyes. "Maybe that's why I'm a little pragmatic. Things don't always get better. _People_ don't always get better. And the sooner you accept that, the better off you are in this field."

"So that's how you do it?"

Bruce shrugged a little feebly and Tony thought he might understand now. The bit of distance he seemed to feel from the doctor, it was, at least in part Tony guessed, because of habit. Building up walls was his way of dealing with things. But Tony had a feeling there was more to it than that. He had a lot of theories about the man and the more time he spent with him, the more he wanted to break down some of those walls and see the fullness of what was hiding on the other side.

"You're a puzzle," Tony shared a little of his thought pattern allowed and Bruce looked a little taken back by the comment. Tony wagged a finger lightly at him. "You're definitely a puzzle, but I think I can put the pieces together with enough time." Bruce looked even more startled than before.

"I wouldn't if I were you," he warned. "You might not like the picture it makes." Tony pursed his lips thoughtfully and looked away and up.

"Maybe the specific picture isn't what matters," he said. He then looked intently at the doctor. "Maybe it's being able to see it at all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Shout out to Cassie's story/Scott's origin in the comics. She's critically ill with a heart defect and Scott becomes Ant-Man to rescue Dr. Sondheim so she can cure her.  
> 2\. I just needed Thor as a baby doctor okay. Because I mean big ol' Thor holding babies, and delivering babies, and caring for babies, and crying over babies... like I just needed this imagery.  
> 3\. They finally had their lunch! And I'm totally aware that not much happened there - besides a little gtky about their different philosophies on things and hints at Bruce's backstory - or in this chapter at all. But it's a set up/bridge chapter for things to come. Idk.


	6. Chapter 6

Bruce's alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. sharp. It was a gentle, gradual tone consisting of Asian chimes as being startled wasn't something he particularly enjoyed. Still, most mornings he wanted nothing more than to smash the alarm into a million pieces. He felt the tug of consciousness and rolled over to turn it off. He then blinked open his bleary eyes and lay there for a moment.

To his surprise, _this_ morning he actually felt rested. He was grateful for it since today started his on-call shift and every little bit helped. Additionally, since he was in the middle of a pediatric cardiology fellowship, today he would be working alongside Dr. Sondheim during Cassie Lang's heart surgery.

Rested or not, he didn't love having to get out of bed any more than the next person and did so with a groaning stretch. As was the usual routine Bruce went to the bathroom of his tiny, overpriced apartment just outside of Los Angeles where Yinsen Memorial was located. He relieved his bladder, took a quick shower and dressed himself.

After that he went to make himself a quick, balanced breakfast and one of his favorite strong teas. He stopped momentarily to turn on the television, since it could be seen and heard easily from his open kitchen; he flipped it to one of the business news stations since they were always likeliest to report on new achievements in the world of science and technology. No matter the negative memories he held, he couldn't stay away entirely from that world no matter that he wanted nothing to do with it directly anymore.

The television was mostly background noise as he flipped an egg, adding in a little cheese and spinach, prepared some rolled oats, and pulled out some fresh fruit. However, just as he had finished plating his breakfast and was pouring his tea, something caught his attention and he immediately turned up the volume and focused more on what the news broadcaster was saying.

"Businessman Tony Stark has reportedly been in the hospital since last Thursday night following, what witnesses say was a heart attack." Bruce shook his head slightly as he took a bite of his eggs. "Representatives from Stark Industries have not confirmed or denied the specifics of the incident, stating only that Mr. Stark is doing well and will be released soon. While sources say he has not yet been released it doesn't seem like that has stopped the company from going ahead with the surprise launch of a new company, Stark Resilient, Inc." Bruce's eyebrows rose as he continued to eat.

"Somebody should have confiscated his tech," he mused aloud with a small chuckle.

"Co-Chief Executive Officer, Pepper Potts had the following to say to the press: 'Stark Resilient is a new branch of Stark Industries that is dear to Tony Stark's heart. It is a vision that he has had in the works for several long months and that he wanted to launch without fanfare.' Ms. Potts will be on hand for the opening bell of today's New York Stock Exchange to commemorate the launch just the same. According to the press release Stark Resilient, Inc. will be dedicated solely to the research and development of products and tools that will advance medical practice and better the lives of patients in hospitals around the world. Already this has led to several comments on social media regarding the possible connection between Stark's current hospital stint and his sudden interest in medicine." There was a pause and shift in the ticker. "In other news, stocks for Roxxon Oil continue to plummet in the wake of the massive spill—"

Bruce turned the television off, mouth ajar and eyes wide. He sat there for several moments contemplating the report. Tony had created a new company solely for the purpose of medicine? The man who had said the day before he wished he could end sickness? The man who had also said he couldn't imagine working in that field at all? The same man who clearly disliked being in the hospital and would rather be anywhere but there? Bruce couldn't wrap his mind around it. It was confusing and wonderful and terrifying at the same time.

Bruce broke from his reverie regarding the news with a few rapid blinks and looked at his watch. He didn’t have time to sit there and dwell on it. But that didn’t stop his thoughts from returning to it again and again as he quickly finished eating, getting ready and also on his drive to work.

It was about halfway to work that he started to wonder about the questions and comments regarding Tony’s health. It wasn’t hard to imagine that Tony’s own condition with his heart would prompt him to be concerned regarding health and devices that helped to keep people healthy. Yet that didn’t seem like enough of a reason to build an entire company around it. Unless it was strictly about new profit and progress to be had and the personal connection was just a convenient coincidence? But as crazy as it seemed that answer didn’t seem right either. God help him, he’d only truly spent about a collective two hours, if that, speaking to the man and yet he couldn’t imagine Ms. Potts’ saying it was something close to Tony’s heart was merely rhetoric based on that little time spent with him.

So was there more to it? There was a niggling in the back of his mind that said yes. Suddenly Tony was the puzzle and Bruce couldn’t quite get these pieces to click together. At the moment the only thing that _perhaps_ fit was the concerns put forth by others that maybe Tony was sicker than they knew, but that… that was impossible. Jane would know and she would tell him, or Darcy would at least. Then again maybe he was being presumptuous. No, there was no _maybe_ about it; it wasn’t his business.

On the other hand, maybe it was just Tony that was paranoid that his health was worse off than what his diagnoses told him he was. Bruce could certainly understand that and it was a more logical explanation than jumping to some horrible conclusion and Bruce was nothing if not a logical human being.

Or at least maybe he _used_ _to be_ because when he came into the break room and found Jane there visiting with Thor after an early morning delivery he immediately asked, "Is Tony okay?" Jane turned from the coffee maker to look at him. She raised her brows and blinked several times.

He immediately felt foolish and was about to take it back when she said, "Yes. And it's Tony now is it?" He realized his mistake.

"Uh, sorry. I meant Mr. Stark, of course." She merely rolled her eyes as she walked over to hand Thor a mug of coffee. He looked up at her gratefully from where he sat in a chair looking more than a little tired."And…" He licked his lips, glancing between the two and then around the room as he wrung his hands slightly. "You've given him a full check up? You're certain there's nothing else wrong with him?"

"Wait, what's going on here?" She suddenly got that scrutinizing look she had when, being the practical genius she was in her own right, was about to pull together a theory.  It was enough to bring Bruce to his senses.

"No, never mind. Don't answer that. It's not important. And he's not my patient so I have no right to know—"

"You like him," Jane blurted, head falling forward a little in an astonished manner. "I mean, I knew you were attracted to him, but you seriously _like_ him." Jane looked at him with wide amber eyes and a just as wide gaping sort of smile.

"What?" Bruce gaped at her in return. "I… No, of course not… I mean, well, yes I like him. He seems nice and, you know, different from what I would have thought he'd be like." In spite of his tired look Thor was beaming now and that unsettled him further. "Look, honestly. I… I've already admitted to being attracted to him and maybe interested in getting to know him. Because heaven help me as if I have the time _or_ temperament for that sort of thing." He shook his head. "But I barely know him still. I can't like him like, well, like whatever you're trying to imply."  She gave him a dubious expression. 

"Then why did you ask?"

"There, uh..." He sighed. "There was something on the news about him this morning. He's started a new company solely dedicated to advances in medical science."

"Oh wow," Jane said, momentarily distracted. "That's unexpected. But awesome."

"Right," Bruce agreed. "But there's speculation that it's because his own health is direr than what's being presented to the public, hence his interest." Bruce shrugged.

"Perhaps he's just invested in the medical industry," Thor suggested. "He did practically build this hospital after all." Bruce's gaze narrowed immediately and Jane looked at him in equal surprise. Dr. Blake was often underestimated to the point that when he did say something of magnitude such as this it always threw them for a loop. "You didn't know?"

Bruce held his mouth open for half a moment before saying, "Uh, no. No, I was under the impression it was built by a group of retired doctors looking to create a state-of-the-art facility." Although, now that he considered it, looking around the place, it did practically scream Tony Stark somehow. He immediately told himself he didn't know the man personally enough yet to think such a thing. Yet he did just the same. "I thought it was a sort of community of anonymous doctors deal."

"I do think that's the official story," Jane agreed, looking at her fiancé curiously.

"Yes, official story," Thor replied nonplussed. "But I was speaking with Charles once and he said that while there is a community of anonymous doctors who donated, offered insight and now act as Trustees, the entirety of the project and majority of the financing is owed entirely to Tony Stark."

"I don't believe it," Bruce said with a shake of his head.

"Ah, but it's true," Charles interjected at that moment, coming into the break room. He looked a little like he'd just gotten laid – again – and a quick glance at Jane and Thor told Bruce he wasn't the only one who was thinking it. "I assure you I am an authority on the subject for reasons I'm not at liberty to disclose, but which I'm certain you can infer." Bruce scrunched his face slightly at that. "This entire facility from conception to what it is today was and still is because of Tony's vision. The why is very much a guarded secret, but he had a vision of a hospital unlike any other and decided to use his great fortune to build one."

"Does he profit from it?" Jane asked with a furrowed brow.

"No, not at all," Charles answered. "He loses money actually. The hospital isn't in his name rather currently a very low profile director and small staff of executives. It's overseen by the Board of Trustees made up of doctors. Stark only acts as Chief Consultant on all matters. But it still receives continued monetary support through donations from the Maria Stark Foundation in addition to the other charities interested in the vision of Yinsen Memorial. Any profit goes to paying our salaries, the shareholders and of course the executives." 

"Okay, maybe I _should_ give him another check up. Maybe I missed something," Jane said suspiciously. That wasn't at all comforting to Bruce, not that it should matter so much he told himself yet again, and he was even more confused than before.

"Dr. Banner," Dr. Sondheim spoke and he turned to see her at the door, a reminder that he needed a clear head today and this topic wasn't conducive for it, "I'm ready to begin preparation. I'm so glad you had the foresight to schedule Cassie for today just in case," she said with a tone of obvious relief. "I received word first thing this morning that her fund went through and I should make her my top priority. Not a moment too soon," she said and then left the room again.

"Thank goodness," Bruce said with a sigh.

So funds weren't stopped, not yet at least; it had merely been a slight delay in the process. Mr. Lang had nothing to worry about now beyond his daughter's operation and recovery. And Steve… Bruce felt relief wash over him. Steve could go on getting stronger.

\-----

"Can I just say," Tony mused as he read over another of Steve's comics, completely intrigued, "I can't wait for Iron Man and Hulk to be friends. There's definitely potential there. Definitely some chemistry." He nodded as he flipped to another page and continued reading. "Wonder if it'll be the same with his human counterpart. You'll let me read it when it's done, right?" he asked in reference to the comic he'd seen him drawing the day before.

"Uh," Steve seemed hesitant. "Well, nobody… Nobody's ever seen any of my comics when Hulk is in his human form," he seemed trying hard to explain. "And this one will definitely have him as a man. So…"

Tony stopped reading and looked across the recreational room table at the boy. He was fidgeting and avoiding eye contact. So, naturally, his interest was further peaked.

"Is there someone in particular he resembles? Is that it?" Tony guessed. Steve darted his eyes around the room. He shrugged. Then finally he admitted to it with a nod. "So whoever it is you don't want anyone to know."

"I… I don't know if they would understand. They… They might be offended, you know?" Steve looked at him with a helpless expression that made Tony want to try and fix his dilemma. "Hulk is, well, he's seen as a monster. He's not, but... And the human, he, he's kind of misunderstood. He's gentle, but he's also kind of closed off and he obviously has a temper that can trigger the Other Guy if it gets too bad. And, I think he's afraid of a lot of things?"

"Are we still talking strictly about the character?" Tony raised an eyebrow in askance. Steve shifted his eyes downward in a guilty manner and slowly shook his head. "Huh. Well, I'm sure whoever this person is, you're not actually trying to make them the bad guy—"

"I'm not!" Steve exclaimed, eyes going wide in horror as he looked at him. "That's the last thing I think he is."

"Ah. So it's somebody you're close to," Tony reasoned. "A good friend?"

"I… I guess. I mean, I hope so…" Steve shrugged, clearly uncertain. "I know he cares about me, but I wish—" He cut himself short with a small strangled noise and hung his head.

"Hey," Tony immediately intervened. He wasn't sure he could handle a crying kid. He especially didn't think crying suited this particular kid. He definitely did not want Steve to cry. "Hey, Steve, hey, look at me. Look at me, okay?" Steve sniveled and did so, eyes round like a sad puppy's that made Tony's practically broken heart twinge. "You're a great kid. If _I_ like you then it's impossible that others don't like you," he said, trying to diffuse the situation with a little humor. Luckily, Steve snorted in amusement. "I hope it works out for you, okay? Maybe he just needs a little time," Tony offered in vague encouragement of whatever the issue was. He wondered if this had to do with the uncertainty Steve seemed to have had regarding liking boys. "You know, I'd still really love to read the comic when you're finished and you can trust me to keep your secret, but no pressure, kid."

Steve worried his lip, but then said, "I'll think about it." Tony nodded at him and then returned to reading the comic he was on. This one included Thor and a badass agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. – which Tony had been surprised about the connotation – named Coulson. "So, um, do you like Dr. Banner?"

Tony startled and looked at Steve with wide eyes. Steve looked back in earnest askance.

"Well that was a sudden and unexpected topic change, Steve," he said straightforwardly. The boy's earnest look turned embarrassed. "But, yeah, sure. He's swell," Tony said,  tone noncommittal and Steve fixed him with a 'you know what I mean' look.

"Well, yeah, but… do you, you know, _like_ -like?"

Tony hadn't heard that turn of phrase in years and it was endearing and appropriate coming from Steve so he smiled softly and hitched a shoulder.

"I've only just met him, but… actually, I think I do," he admitted and Steve's eyes widened slightly. "Does that bother you?" He studied Steve carefully. Steve gave him a dumbfounded look for a few seconds before a big smile spread across his face in an uncontrolled fashion.

"Are you kidding!? I love Dr. Banner and—" Tony raised an eyebrow even as Steve seemed to realize what he'd said and back pedaled. "I mean, you know, not _love_ -love. But it all kind of feels like family here, you know. I told you that before, right? So it's like almost-love in a friendly sense?"

"Like having a favorite teacher or mentor," Tony offered graciously, but he'd seen the look of adoration on Steve's face the first day he'd seen the boy and doctor together. And now he was starting to put the pieces together of what was going on here.

"Yeah!" Steve took the out quickly. "So, uh, I like him and think he deserves the best. And I think he's lonely," he added, it sounding a little like an afterthought.

"And you think I'm the best?" Tony asked. The insecurity he kept hidden told him how far off the mark Steve was with that one. Sure, he was the best at a lot of things and those things he would own, but this? Relationships? People? Not a chance.

"Well," Steve looked thoughtful, "maybe not the _best_." There was humor in his tone, clear teasing, and Tony snorted. "I mean, I guess you do have a reputation, but I don't think Dr. Banner would mind that. I just meant you guys seem like you'd be nice together. I think, or I hope anyway, you'd treat him right. I wouldn't want him to get hurt."

Tony's eyes widened. Suddenly he felt like he'd just been given the eleven-year-old version of a shovel talk. He opened his mouth to respond when they were interrupted by Phil.

"Dr. Banner and Dr. Sondheim just finished their operation," Phil said without segue way. "Did you know it was Cassie?" Steve furrowed his brow.

"I thought Natasha said she didn't get her funding on Friday."

"She was sure of it," Phil replied with a nod. As Tony simultaneously read the comic and listened in on their conversation he tried not to laugh at the way the kids couldn't keep their noses out of the affairs taking place throughout the hospital, not that he blamed them either. "But she was just snooping around the area and said it was for sure Cassie. She was shocked since we all know Mr. Lang kept putting it off because he couldn't afford the cost."

"Is she okay?" Steve asked and Tony smiled softly at the boy's immediate concern for the patient. He spared a glance at them to see Phil was smiling too, like a smitten kitten.

"This is why I keep saying you should model Captain America after yourself," the boy said and Tony glanced back down at one of the panels that had the faceless hero on it, trying to imagine Phil's suggestion. He had to agree. "So far, so good," Phil finally answered the question and Steve gave a small sigh of relief. 

"That's good. I know time was of the essence for her. It's a good thing the funding came through when it did." There was a long pause and Tony looked up curiously to see the boys looking at each other in a way that suggested they were having a private conversation. "So you think it was the Angel of Yinsen Memorial?" Tony furrowed his brow and looked between them.

"The Angel of Yinsen Memorial?" He voiced his curiosity. "Is that the anonymous SHIELD fund donor?" He sincerely hoped the answer to that question was no.

"Uh, not exactly," Steve responded hesitantly. "You see, sometimes the SHIELD funds don't get approved. We don't know why," he said with a shrug. Tony had to wonder a little about it as well. "But a person who didn't receive it receives funding from somewhere else at just the right time. Another anonymous donor. We don't know if it's multiple donors or other loans they've applied for, but we think given the pattern it's only one person. So we call him or her the Angel of Yinsen Memorial."

"Huh," Tony toned thoughtfully. "Well, that's good there are other options available." Still, he wondered where those funds were coming from and why the Trustees had never mentioned it before. Or maybe they had and he hadn't been paying attention. Then again, he was sure he would have remembered that kind of detail in the reports.

"How has the comic reading been going?" Bruce interrupted from the door way.

Tony looked over at him immediately and noted that he looked bone tired, but that his shoulders didn't appear as heavy as they'd been at lunch the day before. As the man came into the room Tony felt a sudden, wistful as it was, desire to be the person that Bruce rested against after a long day at work like this. He suddenly wondered what it would be like to wrap his arms around him and let him lay his head on his shoulder. This job must be an even tougher one when you didn't have anyone to come home to… assuming he was single.

And, wow, now was an _awful_ time for him to suddenly realize he wasn't even certain Bruce was single. None of the signs even pointed to him being attached. Then again, maybe that was why he was standoffish. Steve said he seemed lonely, but maybe not even Steve - or even Darcy - knew if Bruce was keeping his home life private. Maybe he went home to a loving wife or husband. Maybe Bruce had laughingly told his significant other about the pathetic and desperate hot shot at the hospital who he was humoring out of pity before assuring said significant other it didn't mean anything. Maybe Tony would find himself the recipient of a threatening roughing up of from a disgruntled boyfriend or girlfriend; he'd been there before, but it'd been a while and never over anyone he was truly interested in—

"No, it wasn't… It wasn't the Angel," Bruce's uncertain tone brought him out of his small downward spiral that even he knew somewhere in his functioning brain wasn't logical. "At least, not that one. It was the SHIELD fund. It just came in a little later than it usually does. Nothing to be concerned about." Bruce looked directly at Steve and a quick glance between them told Tony they were both relieved for the same reason.

"That's good," Steve said. "I wouldn't want anyone here to lose their funding. Phil needs it," he said nodding to the boy and Tony spied the conflicted expression on Bruce's face at that. It was a look that said his primary concern had been Steve and that it made him feel guilty.

"Like Nick would let them take it away," Phil replied breezily. "He'd be down on the Trustees' asses if they tried."

"And with much more colorful language, I'm sure," Dr. Banner said with a small frown. Suddenly it dawned on Tony and he looked at them in confusion.

"Wait, as in Nick Fury? _That's_ your dad?" He continued to gape. "I knew he had kids, but I didn't know it was you guys."

"Well, his dad," Steve said with a hitch of his shoulder.

"You know Nick Fury?" Bruce was studying him.

"Uh, yeah, as a matter of fact—"

"Dr. Banner to emergency care entrance," came an interrupting page and Bruce immediately tensed before turning on his heels.

"Come on!" Phil nodded for Steve to follow and the boy did.

"I don't know if you should," Tony tried to be the reasonable adult as they all came to a halt in the door way because several staff, including Dr. Xavier, were rushing by.

Once it was clear again, Phil and Steve hurried on and Tony chased after them. By the time they reached the children's wing emergency care entrance, they were joined by Natasha and a few other bystanders, including adults there for other children. Tony pulled the kids out of the way, but couldn’t deny he was like a deer in headlights, unable to look away as the scene unfolded. There was a teenage boy fighting to sit up on a medical gurney.

"I didn't mean to," he was shouting, with a wrecked voice, over and over like a mantra as Bruce tried, with help from others, to pull the boy's hands away from his ears.

Tony heard a gasp from Natasha when they managed to move the hands only to reveal they were covered with the blood seeping from both ears. Tony felt a little squeamish at that in addition to the frozen expression of terror on the boy's face and wondered how Bruce could so calmly direct his team on how to take care of the boy.

"I didn't mean to hurt him," the patient shouted as he was immediately rolled away.

The 'him' became immediately clear when paramedics next rolled in a much younger boy. Both Bruce and Charles moved to get the information about him.

"Gunshot to the back, middle left side."

"Move him quickly to an operating room," Bruce shouted and then looked at Charles. "You're probably better suited to take lead on this. Can you?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Charles said with a nod. "You help the other and if I need relief or assistance, be ready." Bruce also nodded as they watched the boy be pushed down the hall.

" _Pietro!_ " A little girl suddenly shrieked and took off running after the gurney. Charles stopped her, quickly stooping down to her level.

"My dear, I'm sorry, but you cannot go with him," he said gently as Bruce looked at the tall man who had rushed after the girl, likely her father. He looked like he might become a wreck himself at any moment.

"I have to!" She screamed. "He's my brother! My twin! He needs me!"

"Wanda, please," the father choked out as he placed a hand at the back of her brunette head and Charles looked up to meet his gaze. "Pietro needs these nice men to go take care of him as quickly as they can. We can't go or we'll be in the way, _mäuschen_." He sounded close to tears and his expression was pleading as he looked first at Bruce and then back down to Charles. "You will do everything you can?"

"I promise we will give him the very best care," Charles said in that warm, reassuring voice that had always managed to charm more people than Tony could, if he were admitting it. Charles patted Wanda's cheek fondly. "Try not to worry, Wanda. You will be able to see Pietro again soon. In the mean time I believe your father needs you to stay here and keep him company." At that Charles stood, locked eyes with the father once more, and gave him a reassuring smile before turning and hurrying off to perform his job.

"Pietro will be in good hands," Bruce reassured. "You can stay here in this waiting room or one of our nurses can escort you back to the children's ward where there's a cafeteria and some entertainment options," he said meaningfully, intending to give him and Wanda a distraction. The man just nodded. "If you'll excuse me," Bruce said, trying to sound professional but Tony didn't miss the heaviness that had settled over him again.

As Bruce turned to leave, he locked eyes with Tony for just a quick moment. He had an unreadable expression on his face, but then looked down towards Tony's torso before hurrying on. That's when Tony finally registered the boy clinging to his side and the way he had returned the embrace, holding him protectively. When it had happened during the ordeal, Tony wasn't even sure. He only knew it must have been pure instinct.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The plot thickens? Idk probably not.  
> 2\. Enter Clint finally. So the reason I saved him until now rather than having him as one of Fury's kids was because I wanted to have an emergency entrance scene and it was either this scenario or Bucky shooting Natasha a la TWS, but because I wanted the minor Cherik+twins feels (personally) and didn't think Clint's deafness was a reason to hang around the children's ward as much as Natasha with a sickness of some kind (although I guess Clint could have had a made up illness too), I went with the small shout out to MCU!Pietro being shot.


	7. Chapter 7

Bruce's on-call shift hadn't been so challenging in quite a few months at least. He'd known that Cassie Lang's surgery would be taxing and make the remaining of his twenty-eight hours a struggle, but he'd never counted on the emergencies that had followed almost immediately after the surgery.

First there was Clint Barton. 13 years-old and apparently a foster home runaway according to the police. From what they'd gathered his older brother had been in the midst of a confrontation with some of the miscreants he'd gotten mixed up with and the boy had been trying to stop it from escalating. In an attempt to rile his older brother, Clint had been attacked with pocketknives in the most gruesome way Bruce had ever heard of (and he'd heard of a lot, sadly).

Then Erik Lensherr had tried to break up the fight when he'd stumbled upon it while taking his twins to the park. Bruce wondered if he would have made the same decision had he only known he'd have to face a father's worst fear. Mr. Lensherr could barely piece together his side of the story as it had gone faster than the speed of light. He only knew one minute he was trying to take care of Clint and diffuse any further madness and the next guns were being pulled. In an act of adrenaline-fueled bystander heroism Pietro had run into the thick of it to get to his father only to take one of the bullets, a bullet that Mr. Lensherr had said surely would have killed Clint.

Lensherr's daughter had run to get help and the police arrived in time to arrest some of those involved and call for an ambulance, but Clint's brother had escaped. Now the younger of the two was legally deaf and more than a little traumatized from the experience. Getting the bleeding under control, giving him a small transfusion to make up for the loss and checking for any other injuries had been the most Bruce could do for him. The hospital's outsourced otolaryngologist would be there in a few days to begin further care, but Bruce knew things were bound to get complicated what with his being a runaway and a kid in the system as far as treatment might go.

Then there had been Pietro's emergency surgery. While Dr. Xavier had handled the bulk of it Bruce had been there as promised. He'd stepped in once when Charles had suddenly had one of the all too familiar moments that sometimes come when holding the life of something so young and innocent in your hands. All the more when acutely aware of the complexities of back injuries and the threat of paralysis since Charles had his own hellish experience. He'd temporarily lost his ability to walk after a hiking accident had left him nearly crushed by a boulder and only the best medical care and some radical treatments had restored the use of his legs. Bruce knew that his experiences had spurred Charles to want to do everything in his power to offer that same miracle to Pietro. Halfway through the surgery Charles had even brought Dr. Helen Cho into the operating room from another wing to consult regarding the damaged tissue from the bullet.

In the end it was expected that in time the boy, who'd gotten very lucky with where the bullet struck, would be able to walk it off with adequate therapy. He would, of course, have nerve pain from time to time. That was something Charles himself was familiar with as some days his legs refused much movement at all; there was still worry he might lose their use again in time, but they never talked about it. Still, for Pietro there was sufficient hope that it wouldn't be worse than occasional pain and that the pain would be manageable by means of regular care and painkillers when it got to be too bad.

So far Bruce's shift had been nearly thirteen hours straight of some of the worst the job could offer and now Bruce was weary and ready to throw in the towel. No matter how much of a success the day had been so far, he had to wonder at what cost that success came. The success wouldn't be there if not for tragedy, emergency, pain, suffering, sickness… It was all too much and the knowledge was there in the back of his mind, like a growling monster reminding him that it was luck that Cassie's condition hadn't worsened before her father had agreed to the surgery. It was luck that this Clint kid hadn't been shot dead on the spot or that his savior's injury wasn't going to alter his life the way it very well could have. But it certainly _wasn't_ luck that Clint may never hear properly again without aid. And that was his bitter reminder that anything could have gone wrong at any moment and that luck could only hold out for so long. At some point his skill might not be enough and it would hurt _damn it_. He might try to stay neutral, stay unattached, but it would hurt.

Bruce didn't even realize he was crying, exhausted and overwhelmed, as he leaned against a wall until thin arms wrapped around his waist and a small head rested against his upper stomach. He blinked away the tears and looked down to see the familiar blond hair. Bruce let himself return the hug and held the boy close.

"You're the real angel, Dr. Banner," Steve whispered reverently. "You're the best doctor around."

Bruce pulled away and looked down at him, seeing hope and trust in his eyes. It was hope and trust that Bruce felt was misplaced. If only Steve knew how wrong he was, how very scared Bruce was, how close he was to just walking away… from Steve. Bruce's heart clenched. He couldn't do that. Not yet. Maybe it was inevitable, even if it was Steve that got healthy and left him, but not yet.

"Dr. Banner," Charles' tired voice broke through his thoughts and he turned to look at the man. "You're only half way through your shift," he said knowingly. "Go take your dinner. Nothing less than an hour or so help me I will make up some horrible story to the administrators about you. Something like fraternizing with a patient," he threatened with mischief still lighting his blue eyes no matter how tired they looked. "I'll cover you unless anything major needs your attention," he promised.

"Are you sure?" Bruce looked at him dubiously and tried to ignore the threat; as if Charles had the nerve for such a hypocritical play.

"I can leave after you get back," Charles said. "You can't. So, yes, go. You need the downtime."

"Okay," Bruce agreed. He was right after all. Bruce looked down at Steve one more time. "You have class at the school tomorrow don't you?" Steve nodded. "Then I want you in bed by time I'm back okay?"

"Alright." Steve sighed.

Bruce smiled at him and then left him with Dr. Xavier to head off toward a cafeteria far away from the children's ward. At least that was his intention. Instead his feet led him in a different direction altogether.

"You look terrible," Tony said to him with a raised brow and searching eyes before Bruce could even ask if he could come into the room.

Tony shut his laptop and looked expectantly at him. Bruce knew it was invitation to stop lurking in the door way and so he entered. He made his way over to one of the visitor's chairs, practically falling into it in a boneless heap.

"I feel terrible," he answered. "I hate this job, Tony."

"No, I don't think that's it," Tony countered. Bruce was too tired to widen his eyes in shock or even open them; he wasn't even sure when he'd closed them. "I mean, I get it. I say I hate my job all the time and once upon a time that was the truth. Back when… well, when my heart wasn't in it," he said in a meaningful tone that caused Bruce to open his eyes. "But now when I say it I don't really mean it. I just mean I hate the pressure that comes with being a genius. And a rich one at that. It's like you're constantly faced with a live wire bomb and you have to make the right call every single time or else it's not going to be pretty and it'll be all your fault. It's almost like playing God," he said with a sigh.

"You sound like you know a lot about what it's like to be a doctor," Bruce said and if he wasn't so tired and monotone, he knew he'd sound suspicious. Tony didn't answer. "Or maybe you do," he added thoughtfully and that seemed to get Tony's attention. "It seems like an eternity ago, but this morning there was something on the news about Stark Resilient. So you're trying to wave your hand, is that it? Are you trying to wipe out sickness?"

"I'm narcissistic, sure, but even I know that can't be achieved for all of my genius," Tony said with a sigh. "But I'm going to give it my best go at putting a dent in it. Could you imagine a shield around the world?"

"As in," Bruce scrunched his face and licked his parched lips, "the SHIELD fund?"

"As in a place like this," he answered. He lifted a hand and gestured around the place. "It's not enough for just one Yinsen Memorial. State of the art facilities are needed all over the globe. And maybe it's not possible to build one in every corner of the world, but maybe it's possible to advance medicine as a whole. Maybe it's possible to make equipment that's both powerful and affordable or discover a cure for cancer in our lifetime."

Tony had such a passionate light in his eyes as he spoke that Bruce suddenly didn't find it so hard to believe that Yinsen Memorial was Tony's secret vision. It was breathtaking to witness him like this. That was maybe a more dangerous prospect than simple attraction. Chemistry could be explained. The sudden longing for something a little outside his norm could also be explained. The sudden increase in the beat of his heart and the airiness in his stomach could not be explained by any reasonable conjecture, at least none he was ready to deal with because it was illogical.

"That sounds amazing," Bruce said truthfully, but didn't linger. "Just like food, no offense. I really don't mean to be disrespectful to your dream, but food really sounds good right now. So I'm just going to—"

"I just ordered some dinner," Tony said quickly. "I haven't eaten yet either. Maybe you can share what I've got or order yourself something for here too. I'd love the company," he said. "And unless you have a lover at home who would disapprove, I'd love to try and take your mind off your hellish day so far. I'm sure it was intense. By the way, I didn't mean physically. I'm well aware of the doctor-patient fraternization rules. I meant we could just talk or watch television or something."

Because Bruce wasn't currently at his peak it took him a moment to process everything Tony had actually said during his ramble. When he did, he squeaked in surprise.

"Y—You actually think I'm… Tony, I'm very single. So single I can't even remember the last time I went on a date. Why would you assume otherwise?" He looked at him curiously and Tony looked sheepish for a short second.

"Well, you know, because I realized I assumed you were single in the first place and that was maybe stupid of me." He hitched a shoulder.

"It was an easy assumption to make," Bruce said with a small snort. "It doesn't take rocket science to realize I'm not with anyone."

"Hmm," Tony gave him a considering look, "I'd say it takes rocket science to figure out how you're not already." He smiled wide at him. Bruce wasn't sure where he found the energy, but he couldn't stop from laughing.

"Do these lines actually work on people?"

"No idea," Tony said with an unfazed chuckle of his own. "With my fame and money, I probably could have quoted Dr. Seuss at inappropriate intervals and still scored."

Bruce grimaced and said, "If you start quoting Dr. Seuss, I am out of here, Sam-I-Am."

"Don't worry. I don't think I've even read Dr. Seuss. I cut my teeth on robotics theory," Tony bantered.

"Of course you did," Bruce said dryly. But he smiled fondly right after and wished he could have had that same privilege as a boy. Not having to hide his genius.

"I bet you and I would have been friends," Tony quipped at random, breaking Bruce from his thoughts. He blinked at him in confusion. "Something tells me you and I would have understood each other when nobody else could."

Bruce looked down at his lap and then met Tony's gaze. It was bright and reassuring and inviting and almost knowing. Bruce felt his heart palpitate again, sending the warning flares up in his mind only to be purposely ignored for now. For now he just smiled thinly and nodded his head.

"Yeah, I think we would have."

\-----

Tony walked through the children's hospital feeling a little more melancholic than he thought he ever would less than a week before. He'd just gone through several tests and if they all came back clear, which Tony had no doubt they would, he would be leaving in the morning. He'd be getting back to his real life. He'd be leaving the one place he once would have pulled every excuse in the book never to be and the one place he'd now all but convinced himself he was meant to be.

If he left now the bubble might burst. He might wake up and find out it wasn't real. And he didn't want that. This was terrifying and new, but when Tony felt strongly about something he tended to commit to it one hundred percent at a breakneck speed. He wanted to see where this thing might go and he worried it wouldn't be possible if he didn't make a move.

Last night had been promising. Bruce had come to him, had eaten dinner with him, but Tony had had the good sense, as surprising as Pepper or Rhodey would find that, to know not to take advantage of Bruce's weary state. He only just wanted to be there for him.

As if on cue their paths crossed. Well, almost. Bruce was speaking with Dr. Xavier and Pietro's father. Tony couldn't take his eyes off of him as they discussed whatever it was that had Bruce looking so alight with skill and knowledge and conviction. He might not love his job all days, but he was passionate about it that much Tony could see. The short time he'd known him Bruce didn't seem like a verbose person by default, but right now he was more than capable of leading the conversation as he pointed to some charts he held in one hand. Charles chimed in every now and then, but he seemed to be trying too hard not to be unprofessional as he stood next to Mr. Lensherr. He would have to rib Charles about it later.

Thoughts of Charles and Mr. Lensherr were immediately forgotten when Bruce handed the charts to Dr. Xavier, nodded as if in farewell and then turned in his direction, smiling a very small smile upon seeing him.  Head on Bruce looked a little like a zombie, but even that was endearing and didn't diminish how good he looked as a whole. Tony had to wonder if this is what the proverbial head over heels felt like because his thoughts about this man were incongruent with anything he'd ever felt before.

"Hey," Bruce said, voice soft and cracked.

"Hey, yourself," Tony said with a smile. Then he looked him over in concern. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like shit. Gorgeous shit, but shit." Bruce ducked his head and then shook it.

"Well, I've just finished up a twenty-eight hour shift so if I'm gorgeous shit, I'll take count that as a victory."

"Twenty-eight…" Tony whistled. He knew doctors tended to work ridiculously long shifts from his time spent with Dr. Yinsen and when establishing Yinsen Memorial, but that seemed extreme and unhealthy. "How are you still standing?"

"Sheer willpower," Bruce answered with a soft snort. "Which is why I'm going home to sleep for at least ten hours straight," he said.

"Jeez, are you even okay to drive home? Let me call my driver." It was a genuine offer.

"Well, I was thinking about taking the bus," Bruce replied with a shrug.

"Honestly, I insist," Tony continued and pulled out his phone. "Happy can be here in no time. You won't have to deal with a crowded bus and constant stops on the way home. We can call it even for your taking such good care of me at the restaurant if it makes you feel better."

"I'm too tired to argue with an insistent Tony Stark," Bruce mused, closing his eyes as he did. "So, how did all the tests go this morning?"

"Good, good," Tony answered as he sent a message to Happy. "Dr. Foster thinks I should be able to leave in the morning."

"Oh." Bruce opened his eyes. "That's great news. I'm sure you're happy to be getting out of here." Tony didn't have an answer for him. "You'll have to be sure to visit Steve before you leave."

"I had planned on it," Tony said with a nod. "Actually came by to ask when he gets home from school." That wasn't the only reason, but he hoped that went without saying.

"Oh, he, he's actually here now," Bruce stammered out and a worried shadow settled over his face. "He went to school, but Nick got a call that he had a pretty bad asthma attack so brought him back about a half an hour ago. He's in his room."

"Is he okay?" Tony searched Bruce's face for an answer before he could give one. Bruce sighed and Tony could tell it was caused by the concern he himself suddenly felt. At last Bruce gave a small nod.

"Yes, he just exerted himself a little too much in gym class," he explained. "He seems to have this idea that he can do things without Dr. Erskine's guidance, but doesn't quite know his own limits yet. Nick had some strong words with his drill sergeant of a P.E. teacher." Bruce sounded like he wished he could have had some strong words too and Tony suddenly had a vision of Bruce going into mama bear mode.

"Well, glad to hear he's okay," Tony said, meaning it, and glanced down at his phone. "Happy should have the car here in another ten minutes."

"How do you know that?" Bruce scrunched his face and looked down at his phone. "Are you… are you tracking your car?"

"Uh, yeah," Tony answered. "Well, technically my personal artificial intelligence is, but it syncs to this app I created so I never have to wonder when my ride will be some place. Or worst case scenario, Pepper has it on her phone too should somebody hijack my car with me in it," he added as nonchalantly as possible, not meeting Bruce's gaze.

"That's horrible," Bruce said sympathetically.

"Yeah, but I learned the hard way if you have the means it's best to take as many precautions as possible no matter how paranoid it might seem."

"Well, I guess I can't fault you for that," Bruce said in an almost-rueful tone. There was a moment of silence. "Thanks for the car," he then said. "I'm going to go get my things and lock up my own car."

"And I guess I'll go visit Steve," Tony said. There was another pause and Tony got the distinct feeling they both wanted to say something else, but neither did and finally Bruce left. Tony watched him go before turning toward Steve's room.

As he walked he passed the room that he'd learned belonged to Phil. Before he'd had the room to himself, but now he seemed to be sharing it with the Clint kid. Tony studied the scene briefly, noting that Nick was in there along with Natasha and they all seemed to be laughing over something. Well, Nick had a very unique sort of laugh, but it was a laugh just the same. Something about it seemed strange until he made it to Steve's room and realized with no small amount of righteous indignation precisely what it was. Steve was at the top of his bed, knees drawn up, and doodling as usual. Only, his heart didn't seem in it.

"Knock knock," Tony said casually. Steve looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "I hear you decided to play hooky," he teased as he came into the room.

"I wasn't feeling it," Steve answered playfully, but Tony didn't miss the small look of disappointment on his face.

"Hey, don't sweat it. Soon enough you'll be healthy enough to go to school every single day and you'll _wish_ you could get out of it somehow." Steve's face fell even more at that for some reason. "You don't seem to be too keen on that idea? What's up, Steve?" Tony sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him curiously.

"I don't know." Steve shrugged. Tony's expression became dubious and Steve dropped his gaze back down to his drawing. "I guess I'm a little worried about what happens after I get strong enough to leave here. Technically…" He hesitated. "Technically I don't have to be here all the time. It's just easier so Nick doesn't have to bring me to p.t. all the time or worry about bringing me in for a checkup whenever I exert myself too much or my immune system decides I should have another really bad cold that throws everything else out of whack." He shrugged again.

"So, you're afraid of leaving here in general, is that it?" Tony guessed. "Not just if the SHIELD fund stops?"

"It's the longest home I've had," Steve said sadly. "If I get better Nick might still send me somewhere else. Somewhere new. I think they already like Clint more than me. I'm just… I guess I'm just a kid from Brooklyn. Nothing special."

"Hey." Tony twisted sideways to look at him more carefully. "You're plenty special. You're great, Steve. Being a kid from Brooklyn, that's part of who you are so own it. Just like this." He reached over and tapped at the drawing pad. "Just like the fact you care about people. And you have conviction. Trust me, I can tell," he said when Steve looked at him curiously. "Hell, kid, you're the kind of person that's so great if I was your age or you were my age, I'd probably want to punch you because it's a little annoying," he teased.

"Really?" Steve's eyebrows shot up.

"Uh, yes. I really am a bit of an asshole," Tony said with a derisive snort.

"No, no, I mean… You think I'm great? Dr. Erskine has said it, but… I wasn't sure if he was just trying to help me get stronger by believing in myself."

"Steve, you _are_ great. And I'm sorry that nobody else seems to have figured that out and asked you to be their son yet." There was a pause heavy around them. Steve looked both stricken and confused at once. "I'm probably checking out of here in the morning, but since you're back early what do you say we go grab some lunch and chill together this afternoon?"

In spite of his previous dour mood, Steve smiled brightly and said, "I'd like that a lot."

"Great," Tony replied and stood to his feet, Steve following. They left the room, but to his surprise Nick was standing there with an unreadable expression on his face. "Hey, Steve, you go on ahead. I want to catch up with Nick really quick." Steve looked rightly suspicious, but left just the same. "He's a great kid," Tony said to Nick when he was gone.

"Yeah, he is. Kind of why I took him in and pulled my director strings to get him the fund sans approval," Nick said to the point. Tony studied him carefully.

"Well, I'm grateful for that at least," he said honestly. He knew Bruce would be too if he knew the details.

"But not anything else?" Nick read him like a book or maybe he'd overheard some of the conversation. He wouldn't put it past the man. He'd been a covert ops specialist with the military at one time after all.

"Look, Nick. I'm not blind. You obviously don't think as highly of him as you could. He feels isolated. I could spot that kind of feeling in a kid a mile away because I've been there."

"Did you ever think he isolates himself?" Nick countered. Tony opened his mouth to respond, but then shut it again with a sour expression. "That kid was tossed around so much in the system by time I got him he'd pretty much given up on any foster family being anything but bullies who'd just push him out again. Maybe if we'd connected more things would be different, but we didn't. And that's what it's going to take, Tony. The first six months I had him, he was like a kicked puppy who was afraid to ask for anything lest I kick him out. Then he came here and blossomed. I have a few ideas as to why, but that's not my place. The point is letting him stay here has been the stability he needs. I offered to take him back and forth a few times at the start, but I could tell it made him anxious. Like I might just get tired and stop bothering or resent him. That kind of uncertainty," Nick shook his head, "well, it's not exactly conducive to a kid that needs to get better. See what I'm getting at here?"

Tony mulled it all over. He had to admit he could see Nick's point. At the same time he still remembered what it had felt like to be distanced from his own father and how he used to think he'd do anything if Howard Stark would have just acted like he'd care. It wasn't fair for him to have to prove himself, not isolate himself in order to get his dad to act fatherly first.

"Maybe if you'd just adopt him," Tony suggested, and it seemed like a reasonable suggestion at that. "Then he wouldn't have to worry so much about stability."

"You think I haven't considered it?" Nick sighed and looked at him pointedly. "Adoption is permanent and it's not an easy process. You don't just adopt a kid. The kid has to want it too. And as much as Steve wants a family, I don't think I'm exactly the Daddy Warbucks he's hoping for."

"You don't know that unless you ask him," Tony countered hotly. "Just _ask_ the kid. He's smart. He's able to have this conversation. Maybe you're right, but maybe you're wrong. Maybe he just wants a damn adult to love him like he's the most special kid in the world and let him know that sick or healthy they're not going to give up on him. Doesn't he deserve that?"

"You know, Stark," Nick said with a piercing gaze, "it almost sounds like that adult should be you."

Tony felt the world tunnel around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Since Erik is in no way present for Charles' backstory injury, I decided to give a very loosely based shout-out to the original canon where Charles loses his ability to walk (the first time) when Lucifer drops a boulder on him and then a smaller shout out to his getting them back through radical treatment - which is the case in both DoFP via whatever Hank is shooting him up with and in the comics where Charles becomes semi-mpreg, turned into a Brood and then gets his body and use of legs back from a clone and... okay comics can be really weird...  
> 2\. Subtle walk it off joke... But by all means, injuries to backs and legs are very scary and strange things. There's never any telling how they will affect a person. That's why, while Pietro will hopefully be okay it will be only through extensive therapy and there could be permanent damage there. Likewise, I tried to add the subtle hint that Charles' mobility might not be permanent (again like in the comics/DoFP) should his body just say 'no' again (yes, that was a very unscientific way of putting it). I thought long and hard about whether or not to have a canon character with a mobile disability in this fic, but I'm really unfamiliar with that and felt it was one of those "this will probably be offensive if I don't write about paralysis and it will probably be unintentionally offensive if I do." Either way I'm sorry if it's in poor taste :/  
> 3\. Poor baby Steve. That's all I could think of while writing the last part of this chapter. (But to play devil's advocate a bit Clint needs the love too because he's traumatized and alone and, even if it's not said outright because it's limited to Tony's pov, Fury gets that. He's just trying to help him the way he's tried to help Steve.)


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey, pal, we're here."

Bruce jolted awake and looked to see Tony's friend, Happy turned around in the seat smiling warmly at him. He looked around and realized the car was indeed stopped in front of his apartment.

"Oh, uh, thank you. Sorry for falling asleep," he apologized. The man had been talking about something and he was sure any other day he would have been entertained, but today he'd just rudely passed out.

"Don't sweat it," Happy said. "Boss man explained you've been working for twenty-eight hours. Power to you for lasting that long," he said with a laugh. "Besides, wouldn't be the first time somebody's fell asleep on me. Only Tony doesn't apologize," he added mischievously. Bruce snorted at that.

"If his reputation precedes him, I'm going to go out on a limb and presume it was after a wild night?"

"Oh yeah," Happy said with a nod. "But, uh, hey, he's downright respectable these days," he said with a knowing wink.

"Chauffeur and wingman," Bruce mused. "You're multifaceted." Happy laughed.

"And soon to be head of security. So in case anything happens, I'm warning you now the shovel talk is next."

"Perfect," Bruce deadpanned. "Well, thanks again for taking the trouble of giving me a ride."

"No trouble at all. Even asleep, you're probably one of the nicer passengers I've had." Bruce decided to blame his sudden cringe at the thought of all the many passengers Happy had to drive over the years on his tiredness; he couldn't possibly be jealous after all. "You have a good day, Dr. Banner. And get plenty of rest."

Bruce nodded as he got out of the car. He gave the man a small wave, shut the door and then watched for a moment as he drove away. Then he shook his tired head, trying to fathom how he'd come to have a ride from Tony Stark's driver rather than taking the bus home.

"That wasn't a taxi," a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts and Bruce turned slowly. He looked up to see his younger cousin Jennifer smirking at him.

"And that's not your patio," he quipped back. He then sighed a little as he entered his building and made his way up to his apartment. He was exhausted and not certain he felt like a visit from his cousin.

"Did something happen to your car?" Jen asked him as soon as he came into his place. She crossed over to him from the patio entrance to give him a hug.

"I just finished an on-call," Bruce answered with enough of a glare that he hoped would let her know he was in no state to have his patience tested. "I was going to take a bus, but a friend offered me a ride instead."

"A friend?" Jennifer looked at him suspiciously for a moment.

She then pointed toward his room. He knew that look. She was about to play mother hen, she'd probably even found out his schedule to do just that, and wanted him to go change and then come back and lay on the couch while she lit his favorite incense and prepared their Aunt Susan's special chicken dumpling soup that somehow made the world all better, even when Jen butchered it with just a little too much or too little seasoning. Bruce sighed, but then gave in.

If he were being honest he didn't mind being taken care of every now and then. The night before had reminded him of that. Tony had been trying to support him and it had been… really nice. Just sitting there with him, eating and having casual conversation about anything that qualified as nothing important or serious had been relaxing. Stranger still it had felt right.

As he changed into pajama bottoms and a loose fitting, long sleeved gray shirt he wondered how much nicer it would be if he'd come home like this to Tony instead, to Tony urging him to relax. Maybe Tony would indulge him with a massage or good old-fashioned cuddling—

"I know all your friends and none of them drive that kind of car," Jennifer assaulted him as soon as he returned to the living area. "Wait, why are you smiling like that?"

Bruce blinked long and slow and realized he had indeed been smiling a little goofily at how his mind had wandered to thoughts of resting in Tony's arms. That's when it hit him: _he'd been thinking about what it would be like to rest in Tony's arms_. His sleep-addled brain was off its guard and letting his feelings run away with him. He hadn't even gone on a proper date with the other man.

But he wanted to. While he was fuzzy and unguarded like this, he could admit how much he wanted to.

"Okay," Jennifer broke through his thoughts again as she finished lighting the incense and looked at him pointedly, "what's going on here? And whose car was that _really_?"

Bruce didn't answer right away. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling the relaxing incense.

"I already told you: a friend." He sat crossed leg on the couch. "But since that clearly isn't satisfying enough for you, he's a patient there." He cracked open one eye to see her shocked expression.

"A patient? A patient drove you home?"

"No, his driver did," Bruce answered, closing his eye again and focusing his breathing. With any luck he could go into a trance-like state and still get some rest in spite of her inquisition.

"He has a driver?" Jennifer sounded bowled over. She didn't say anything else for a few moments. He heard her in the nearby kitchen rummaging through the cupboards. "So he's rich."

"Yes, but that's not important."

He himself made a little over two-hundred grand a year these days, and although that was peanuts compared to a man like Tony, he really didn't think anything about money now that he had it. When he was younger, that had been a different story.

"Well, no, it's not important, but it doesn't hurt to have friends with a little extra cash _who don't just hoard it_ ," she said meaningfully.

He would glare at her, but that would mean opening his eyes. Outside of normal expenses and an occasional exception here and there, all of his own money went straight into the bank and stayed there, accumulating for the purpose of maybe opening his own clinic or maybe just retiring early and travelling and volunteering or something else. He wasn't sure yet. But he was far from trying to be stingy with it.

So he protested: "That's not fair. I've tried giving you and your parents money on numerous occasions," he pointed out. "It's not my fault the Walters are stubborn."

"Family trait clearly," she commented. "Wait," she suddenly toned, "you only work with kids. So is this rich patient a rich kid who has a driver and his family let you use their car?" Bruce chuckled in spite of himself.

"No, he's an adult," he admitted.

"But, how? How did you…?" She wasn't going to stop until he told her so he lay back down on his couch and relaxed as much as he could, feeling oddly like he was about to have a session with Leonard or Charles.

"Last week I went to dinner with some of my coworkers. Dr. Blake and Dr. Foster are finally engaged," he explained. He paused to give her a chance to coo about how she'd seen it on Facebook and was so happy for them. "While we were there a man went into cardiac arrest. I was his first responder. He's been in Jane's care the past week and he's been by the children's ward a few times because he seems to think he owns the hospital… well, come to think of it, he kind of does," he thought aloud before he could check his tongue. "Steve seems to like him," he finished lamely. He sensed his cousin's closeness and opened his eyes to see her looming over him with a wide eyed expression and open mouth. "What?"

"You practically just described a romance novel." His eyebrows moved upward. "Why was he _really_ in the children's ward?"

"Because the guy can't sit still for more than ten minutes," Bruce answered with a chortle. "He's a jail breaker who just about drove Darcy crazy. Not that I mind that so much," he added impishly. "Karma."

"I can't believe this," Jennifer mumbled and then paced away. "My cousin is having a hospital romance with a patient. I can't friggin' believe this."

"Your cousin is having no such thing," he called after her and closed his eyes again. "So you can just forget any ideas you've got brewing in your head about us stealing kisses in supply closets or making love on his hospital bed after hours. Neither of those scenarios are even appealing to me."

"Because of the setting or because of him?" Jen quizzed. Bruce sighed and decided to just come out with it already.

"The setting definitely. I already spend more hours than I can keep count at that place and the idea of being intimate there too? Yeah, I'm not Dr. Xavier," he ribbed his colleague. "Most anywhere else? I'll admit it probably wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

"Oh my god," Jennifer said eagerly.

"But, again, don't get any ideas. The extent of our _friendship_ was my eating lunch with him one day and then last night after two very long back to back surgeries I had dinner in his room."

"And then he loaned you his driver," Jennifer reminded him, as if he _needed_ to be reminded.

"And then he loaned me his driver," he echoed. "Which was sweet and charming and had my grown man stomach all in a flutter," he replied as sardonically as he could manage. "Happy now?"

"I can't believe my cousin is having a hospital romance," she said as if nothing else had registered and he groaned.

"I'm going to sleep now, Jen," he said and let his mind drift off.

As was usual for him, even when he was exhausted, his body seemed inclined to sleep in short intervals. He drifted back to consciousness about one sleep cycle later and rubbed at his tired eyes. Jennifer was lounging in the chaise with a bowl of soup in hand as she watched television. He stretched and slowly sat up. He spotted his own bowl of soup on the coffee table. It was still fresh as indicated by the steam rolling off of it.

He didn't immediately reach for it, rather gave himself time just sitting there trying to wake up. He tuned into the television to see it was a rerun of _FRIENDS_. He watched for a couple of minutes before finally grabbing the soup. He blew on it and then took a tentative taste, never quite sure what he'd get when Jennifer was the one who'd made it.

"Mm, better than usual," he complimented, though with a slight jab.

"Har- _har_ ," she retorted. They ate in silence and watched two episodes of the feel-good sitcom before any real conversation started again. When Jennifer did speak again it was to broach a topic he wasn't expecting; he'd expected more of the earlier interrogation. "How's Steve?"

He blinked and turned his eyes in her direction. Her attention was still fixed on the television, but there was something in her tone that warned him to choose his answer carefully.

"He's steadily getting better. Dr. Erskine is hopeful that the next six months will see more drastic improvements."

"That's good," Jennifer said with a nod. "That little angel deserves to be strong and healthy. Maybe soon he can go home."

"Yeah," Bruce forced himself to say. "That would be ideal." He blamed his contrary, and completely selfish, emotional response on his still very fatigued body. It didn't mater if he'd miss him when he left.

"Or…" She said with deliberate slowness and looked at him. "Or maybe he can find a new home."

"Not this again, Jen." Bruce squeezed his eyes shut. He should have realized that this was exactly what he'd detected in her tone. After all, this wasn't the first time she'd suggested he try and adopt Steve. It was one more thing he'd blame on being tired that his mind hadn't assumed this would be like those other times.

"Why not? _Why not_ , Bruce?"

"For the same reasons as I've outlined before," he answered. "Outside of a hospital room I haven't the slightest idea how to take care of a kid. Just because I'd like to be a dad doesn't mean I'm not self-aware enough to realize how awful of an idea that would be."

"You're wrong, Bruce," she said gently. "You already care about the kid – and don't try to deny it – so I know you'd be a great dad to him."

"Jen, with my history and my cramped apartment and my long hours at the hospital no agency would just let me adopt him. And that's assuming he'd even want me to. He wouldn't. He wants his foster dad to adopt him even if he won't say it. He wishes Nick would just treat him the way he treats Natasha and Phil." She shook her head.

"You always have an excuse," she huffed. "Is this because you can't have your own kids?"

"No," his tone was sharp, "I have nothing against adoption as an alternative. But maybe its a sign, Jen. Maybe it's a sign that I wasn't supposed to. I'm not supposed to take any chances."  

"You'll never be him, Bruce. _Never_. The only man you'll ever be like is _my_ dad. And my mom has said a million times you've always been like—" She stopped short and winced.

"It's a compliment, you know," Bruce assured her. "You can say it. And I like to believe it most days. But we both know there have been times when I was more like him than her."

"You're impossible, Bruce Banner," she said, her own temper flaring slightly from behind her mousy demeanor. "People get angry sometimes. People make mistakes. That doesn't make you a sociopath."

"Jen, can we drop this ?" Bruce pleaded, growing tired again. "Please. I'm still exhausted and maybe you have a point and maybe I make excuses, but I'm just trying to be practical here okay? Maybe not reasonable, but practical. At the end of the day whether or not I would make a good dad is a moot point because I can't have any of my own and no kid would want me to adopt them even if it was within the realm of plausibility. And even then I don't know if I could handle the letdown of not being approved to adopt." He looked at her ruefully. "So, _please_ , just. Drop it."

"Alright, Bruce. Alright."

\-----

Tony turned off the faucet with a sigh as he leaned over the small sink in the bathroom. He slowly looked up into the mirror to study himself. He hated to admit it, but age was starting to really catch up with him, or else his recent health scare had kicked it into overdrive. He couldn't have the kind of night's sleep he'd had and expect his reflection to be forgiving. He hoped that the press hadn't gotten wind of his release from the hospital or else he'd have to really turn on his Stark brand of joie de vivre and he just wasn't sure if he was feeling up to it at the moment.

And it was all courtesy of one Nicholas J. Fury. After Fury had dropped the bomb on his lap about hypothetical adoptions, it was all his mind had fixated on for the rest of the day. He'd thought about it while he'd spent the afternoon with Steve, enjoying his time and thinking the only thing that could make it better is if Bruce was there. He'd thought about it when he went back to his room later. Then he'd tossed and turned for hours thinking about it. When he'd finally gotten to sleep it was fitful and marked by a nightmare about his own father. When he'd woken up early that morning he'd had the brilliant idea to research foster care and adoption. He'd hoped if anything he'd see how impossible the idea was logistically in addition to how impossible the idea already was logically.

So why hadn't it worked?

"Mr. Stark," an unsure voice sounded outside the bathroom. "Mr. Stark, are you in here. Oh, Darcy is going to blame this on me, I just know it..." Tony quickly opened the door and the nurse, Ian, startled slightly. "Oh. You were..." He shook his head and looked down at the item in his hand. "Here you go," he said, holding it out for him. "It's from Steve Rogers in the pediatrics."

Tony smiled and then pointed at the hospital bed where the rest of his packed belongings were. The nurse got the hint, thankfully, and took it over to the bed before leaving quickly. Tony snorted in amusement before moving to inspect the gift from Steve. He smiled at the wrapping paper as it had a Christmas design on it and the small note card attached to it even contained a small PostScript apologizing that Steve couldn't find the non-Christmas wrapping paper. He wasn't sure it made any sense, but he was a little glad that he hadn't been able to find the other wrapping paper because this was somehow more adorably earnest.

Tony carefully removed the wrapping paper, wondering when he'd become sentimental over such things, and his slow-beating heart melted. In his hands he held that first comic cover of Iron Man that Steve had shown him the day they'd met. Attached to it was a note that Tony quickly unfolded and read:

_Dear Tony,_

_I hope it's not wrong of me to say so, but I'm glad that you came to Yinsen Memorial because I've really liked talking to you. You've been very nice to me and the other kids. I'm going to really miss you, but I'm glad you're better now. I know you said you'll come visit, but I thought maybe you'd like to have this cover to remember me by and since you've been nice enough not to sue me._

Tony chuckled softly at that sentiment as he read the salutation and Steve's signature. Then his eyes caught sight of the PostScript.

_P.S. I think Dr. Banner like-likes you too. You should ask him out to dinner. Like to a really fancy restaurant because he deserves it._

"That he does, kiddo." Tony gave a small sigh. "He deserves a lot." And he still wasn't sure he was the one that fit the bill.

"Discharge paperwork has been finalized, Mr. Stark," Dr. Foster interrupted his thoughts and he looked up. She was standing in the doorway, looking over said paperwork. Then she glanced at him. "Ms. Potts is waiting for you at the front desk. You're free to go," she said with a smile. 

His feet were like lead as he stood and grabbed his two bags, carefully placing the comic and letter into one first. She seemed to understand his reluctance. Her smile softened and her expression became a tad sympathetic. He thanked her for her care and then left. 

Apparently Yinsen Memorial hired decent staff that stuck to their NDAs because the place wasn't swarming with media. He did notice a paparazzi staked out in a car, but that guy followed him everywhere and had probably been there for days waiting for his chance. No, the real concern to a patient's privacy at Yinsen were the nosy children, he thought with a fond chuckle. That said he still wore his shades and frowned as if he _were_ being harassed by intrusive questions. He knew intrusive questions were coming regardless of the source so there was no harm in being prepared.

"A week ago you were begging me to let you just sign an early discharge waiver," Pepper started a mere few minutes after Happy put the car into drive. "Now you look like you drank something sour." She gave him a suspicious look with a hint of a teasing smile at the edge of her lips. "This isn't about Dr. Banner by any chance, now is it?"

Tony let out a soft sigh and shook his head. He took off his shades and brought them to his lap, staring a hole into them.

"Partly. I don't know what it is, but I have to see him again."

"Then why didn't you ask him for his number?" Pepper asked him plaintively.

"I was going to. Probably about a hundred times I started to, but it didn't seem right. I thought I should wait until I was discharged, but then I found out he's not working today so—"

"So you go over to the guy's house and ask him out the old fashioned way," Happy interrupted. "Jeez, boss. How you ever managed to get the rep you have is beyond me." Tony furrowed his brow for a moment before his eyes widened.

"You know where he lives."

"I know where he lives," Happy echoed with a cheeky grin in the rear view mirror.

"Oh this is great. Okay, I need, I'm going to need to take a shower," he began a little manically, "and do you think roses are a bit much? Maybe one rose? Or maybe he's a daisies kind of guy. Unless he doesn't like flowers at all. Huh. You know what. Scratch that. Get a list of all known allergies in the children's ward and then send a bunch of flowers and fresh plants to the rooms there so they all can enjoy having flowers sent to them."

"Tony, I—" Pepper gaped at him and then shook her head. Then a large smile broke out on her face. "I've never seen you so invested in one date. And he hasn't even said yes. What happened in that hospital? And you actually considered that some kids might have allergies," she added like an afterthought.

"I got a second, second chance." Tony smiled at her.  "And I'm starting to think I know what I'm supposed to do with it."

"Oh." It was all she seemed able to say for several long minutes. She focused on her phone, typing out a message to some person or another or maybe multiple people. Her mouth was drawn in a straight line and she looked on the verge of sighing. "So do you want to go home or do you want to use the office showers?" She looked up from her phone and then set it aside.

"Office is closer," Tony answered. He didn't want to have to drive all the way home and back before making his move. "I'm sure I have an outfit still clean in this bag or one lying around my office," Tony said with a shrug. There was silence again for a few more minutes until finally Tony decided to get on with some of what he had to say. "Did you get my email yesterday?"

"The one about the…" she trailed as if unable to remember the name. "The angel thing?"

"Angel of Yinsen Memorial," he supplied.

"Right. Yes, I did."

"Okay, and?"

"So far I haven't been able to make any clear identification of the person or persons as an official grant, but whoever it is they're not partnered with us," Pepper detailed.

"Well, we can't stop there," Tony said after a moment's consideration. "I want to know who the Angel of Yinsen Memorial is, Pepper. I want to know where those funds are coming from."

"Is this your ego talking?" Pepper raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You already do a lot, Tony."

"No. Not at all." Tony looked at her strangely for assuming it even could be. "I'm _glad_ somebody else has been looking out for the patients there. It's what Dr. Yinsen would have wanted." She lowered the eyebrow and tilted her head. "I'm just curious who our moonlighting vigilante is and how the Trustees have never noticed. If anything I'd like to thank them and, hell, partner with them if they're interested."

"Okay," Pepper said with a nod. "We'll keep looking."

"That's not all I want to look into," Tony said tentatively, biting his lip. She straightened her head again. She was clearly waiting for him to continue, but suddenly he wasn't sure if this was the time to bring it up. Or if he was being honest, he wasn't sure how.

Thankfully the car pulled up to Stark Industries before he had to find a way of putting it into words. Rhodey was waiting for them just inside the building and he had a bouquet of assorted flowers in hand. Tony raised a playful eyebrow at his friend.

"They're not for you," Rhodey replied with a knowing laugh. "They're for Pepper as consolation for having to deal with you at full capacity again," he teased.

"They're lovely," Pepper said, taking them with a love peck to Rhodey's lips. "Thank you. They're also consolation for not getting to see my boyfriend for a couple of weeks," she added with a sigh and Tony wondered if that was the sigh she'd been on the verge of in the car.

"Duty calls?" Tony looked at his best friend knowingly.

"Duty calls," Rhodey answered with a rueful nod and looked at Pepper. "Thought I'd drop by and see if you'd both like to get lunch before I head back to base tonight."

"Ah…" Tony felt suddenly on the spot and both Pepper and Happy chuckled.

"Romeo here didn't get Juliet's number," Happy teased and Rhodey's eyes widened, knowing all about the situation since Tony had texted him for some friendly input.

"Really, Tone?"

"Need I remind everyone _I could have **died**_ a week ago? My game was not at peak performance," Tony defended himself. "But, uh, pass on the lunch," he finally said. "One, you two don't need a third wheel. In fact, the two of you shouldn't even still be standing here. Seriously, go get lunch and then go get it on somewhere like other couples." Pepper rolled her eyes, but he could tell Rhodey was in favor of that better plan. "Two, I have my heart set on a different lunch date," he said with a smile and shrug. Rhodey gave a slow, sly smile in knowing and solidarity. "Hey, but with any luck when you get back we can do doubles."

"And I'll just be the awkward fourth wheel that drives you all to the date," Happy said with a melodramatic sigh.

"Aww." Pepper gave him a genuine pout.

"You know, there was this nurse at the hospital—" Tony started.

"Oh, god," Pepper looked back at him quickly and aghast, " _no_. You can't mean Darcy. That's a horrible idea."

"Not Darcy," Tony replied with a chuckle. "I'm an asshole, not cruel. I meant another one. She came in one time to me watching _Downton Abbey_ and just about clutched her heart and said how much she loved that episode and started talking about the couple it was about and honestly I didn't understand much of what she was saying, but I may have let some props for Happy slip out."

"And did you get _her_ number?" Happy asked.

"Damn it, I knew I was forgetting something," Tony said with a snap of his fingers. "But I did get the link to her profile on whatever that new dating site is called." He hitched a shoulder. Tony Stark had never really needed that sort of gimmick for scoring dates.

"Score," Happy chirped. "I owe you, boss."

"Yeah, yeah." Tony flapped a hand. "Just give me Dr. Banner's address and take our two crazy lovebirds wherever they want to go. On me." Happy walked over to the front desk, likely to jot down the address for him. 

"You don't have to do that—" Pepper protested, but Tony waved her off too.

"I'm feeling very good right now so just go with it, Pep."

"Alright," she indulged him. "Good luck with, Dr. Banner," she offered with a smile.

"Thanks." He watched them turn to leave, but before they could Tony blurted, "Have either of you thought about kids?" His own eyes widened at the outburst as they turned and looked at him and then at each other. "I mean… You know, not necessarily together, but in general?"

"Sure," Pepper answered, her eyebrows knitted together.

"Of course," Rhodey added with a hitch of a shoulder. "Why?"

"I… I was just curious I guess," Tony hedged. "I was just… thinking about it is all. You know, hanging out in the pediatric ward probably did it." And that was a white lie if he'd ever given one.

"I guess that makes sense," Rhodey took it easily, even if Tony could tell by his look he knew there was more to it and he was just being tactful by not pressing for the details right now. "Being around kids makes you think about what it'd be like."

"Is there a reason you asked?" Pepper knew better than to let him dodge. "Specifically? Were you thinking about us, Tony or were you thinking about you?"

"I…" He sighed and then gave a rueful chuckle. "You got me. I was thinking about what kind of dad I'd be. Thinking about all the reasons I never wanted kids."

"Do they still hold up?" Pepper asked. "Because, you know," she smiled, "it's good to know where you stand on that sort of thing before going on a _serious_ date," she emphasized and he was grateful because it was a subtle way for her to say she understood he wanted more from this attempt at pursuing Bruce than just a one night stand or two. "Is that why you were asking?" she guessed. "In case it comes up with Dr. Banner?"

"I don't know," Tony non-answered. "I'm not… I'm not necessarily averse to the idea anymore. But I reached the conclusion that I'd make a terrible father." And that wasn't a lie of any color.

It was crazy for him to give any serious thought to the idea. It was crazy for him to think he could have something he probably didn't deserve. It was crazy, but he couldn't get the notion out of his head. Not when he let himself think about Steve. Steve was an amazing kid that deserved someone to fight for him and spoil him and make sure he went on getting healthy.

Tony blinked when he realized that not only was Rhodey saying something, but that notion of what he wanted to see happen for Steve was what Bruce wanted for Steve too. Right? What did that mean?

"I met Howard enough times to know you aren't him, Tony," Rhodey said and Tony made himself focus on his friend.

"And while I don't know if you'd be a perfect parent" Pepper reasoned, "you would figure it out if you really wanted to. You just need to be certain it's what you really want. And realize it's a big responsibility." She smiled and glanced sideways at Rhodey for a moment. "But you've got plenty of time to figure it out," she said with a shrug. "Maybe you should see if you can even make it through a date first," she teased.

She had no way of knowing that the thoughts running around inside of Tony's head were bigger than anything even he could have imagined a week ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I feel like I've asked this before in a fic that I've featured Jennifer in, but I'm always curious to know the different actresses that people cast as Jen in their heads when they're reading a fic with her. Or do they just imagine, like, a generic female as her (if that makes sense)? (I think I've been heavily fancasting Ginnifer Goodwin in my head as I write, with a mixture of a few other actresses.) So, if you have anyone, I'd love to hear :)  
> 2\. The second half of this chapter needed a major rewrite so that's why it's been a moment before uploading another chapter. (That and I've been trying to keep myself 2 chapters ahead in the draft vs. published and Chapter 10 hates my guts).  
> 3\. Obviously the mentioned nurse at the end is supposed to be a shout out to the nurse in IM3. 
> 
> OT note: If you have left me a comment in the past week or so, I'm trying to get around to replying to them. I've just been sort of dead to the world 95% of my free time.


	9. Chapter 9

"Bruce Banner, how _dare_ you not tell me your mysterious friend is Tony Stark!" Jennifer shrieked.

Bruce furrowed his brow as he buttoned up his shirt. He then ran a towel through his hair a few more times before tossing it toward his hamper.

"Tony _Stark_!?" Jennifer shrieked again and Bruce gave a long-suffering sigh.

"It's called nondisclosure, Jen," Bruce said as he fiddled with his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows as he walked toward the living room where she'd decided to crash the night before. "I mean, come on. You're a lawyer. You should know—" Bruce stopped short in his tracks when he saw Tony in his small entryway, Jennifer gaping at him from where she stood a few feet away. "—that," he finished lamely.

They both stood there staring at one another in silence, like neither one could believe Tony was there. At the very least Bruce couldn't believe it. It even took him a solid minute to deduce how Tony had figured out where he lived.

Then suddenly the silence was broken when Tony swallowed hard and said, "I never realized I could be sexually aroused by a color. I stand corrected." Bruce's cheeks warmed and he cleared his throat.

"Funny. I was just thinking the same thing about the cliché band shirt with jeans ensemble."

"Oh my god," Jennifer interrupted. "My cousin really _is_ having a hospital romance. With Tony Stark." She shook her head in disbelief and moved toward the kitchen.

"Cousin?" Tony broke his gaze away to follow her path of motion. "That's reassuring." He looked back again. "Here I was wondering if you'd lied to me." Bruce couldn't tell if he was teasing.

"Um, nope. Just my cousin Jennifer. Jennifer, Tony. Yes, he's the friend I was telling you about."

"Although for the record, Jennifer," Tony said moving further into the apartment, "I'd definitely like to be more than friendly with your cousin. Hope you approve." Bruce's eyes widened and his chest beat a little out of time. "In fact," Tony turned to look at Bruce again, "I came here to ask you if you'd like to hang out with me today. Since, you're off and I'm out. There's no rule about a date now, correct?"

Bruce blinked a few times in surprise and then smiled as he said, "Nope. No rule. You seriously asked Happy to drive you here to ask me out?" It was romantic in an odd sense.

"It was this or have to find a way to badger you at the hospital again," he quipped. Then very seriously he added, "Missed my chance to get your number. Didn't want to miss my chance altogether."

"Bruce, why are you just standing there like a wallflower," Jennifer interrupted again. "A very hot guy is standing in your apartment asking you on a date. And I can tell you're interested too so don't try to deny it. Go. Go _now_. Both of you. Not that I wouldn't like to, you know, get to know you better, Mr. Stark," she added a little sheepishly. "But that can wait. You two, on a date, clearly can't."

Tony laughed infectiously and Bruce couldn't remember the last time or if he'd ever compared laughter to a choir of angels, but there it was just the same. Tony's laughter was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever heard. It made him smile just listening to it. He wondered if he could still blame it on residual fatigue.

"I like you. I definitely hope we get the chance to get to know each other," Tony said to Jennifer with a smile and she tilted her head.

"It _would_ mean things went well with you and my cousin," she said in a sly manner and Tony looked at him then, his smile widening to something almost criminally attractive.

"Absolutely."

Bruce blinked dumbly for a moment and then allowed himself to smile wider too. Jennifer was right. He was standing there like a wallflower when Tony was determined to see if maybe there was something there between them after all. He had shown up at his place just to ask him out and Bruce really _couldn't_ deny he was interested so it would be crazy not to say yes and give it a chance. Besides, at the moment he couldn't quite remember any of the good reasons he had to say no.

"Yes," he said finally. "I'd love to hang out with you today. I'll just… Um, you know. Be right back." He still felt a little out of his depth; it had been so long since even his last casual chit chat with another person he might be interested in. He went back to his bathroom to finish drying and combing his hair. He also brushed his teeth and did a quick shave. He then took a breath and returned to the living room. "Sorry. Just had to finish getting ready. I, you know, wasn't expecting… this."

"Hey, no worries," Tony said in a breezy manner. "The temptation to pick your cousin's brain about you was a little distracting, I'll admit." He smiled. "But I resisted since I'd rather go straight to the source."

"I'm beginning to think I'm still asleep," Bruce replied to that with a low chuckle as he grabbed his wallet and keys since it was clear Tony wanted to go out somewhere. He then looked at Jennifer. "Sorry for—"

"Shut up," she said with a small smile. "You're definitely not." Bruce looked at Tony as they moved toward the door.

"Yeah, guess I'm not," he admitted with a shrug. "See you later, Jen."

"Nice to meet you, Jennifer," Tony offered as he opened the door.

"You too, Mr.—" Tony looked at her with a raised brow. "You too, Tony," she corrected. "Now you two have fun," she added before they left.

Once downstairs and outside, Bruce shook his head and said, "Honestly, I don't know if I remember how to have fun." Tony turned and looked at him like that was the most scandalous thing he could have possibly said and Bruce chuckled in amusement. "With my hours and… social life being what they are, the most excitement I have going on outside of work is dinner with colleagues." He then winced. "Sorry. That… I didn't mean—"

"Didn't think you did," Tony said with a small crease in his brow before it was gone again. "So," he glanced at his watch, "are you hungry?"

"Famished," Bruce said honestly. "I feel like I just woke up from hibernation."

"Good because after a week of hospital food I could go for a really big cheeseburger right about now. With everything, a side of fries, and at least three cups of coffee." Tony broadly gestured to the red convertible, as if Bruce couldn't figure out on his own which ostentatious vehicle belonged to the billionaire.

"Uh," Bruce grimaced, "try not to _over_ do it just yet."

"Jeez," Tony glanced at him across the car from the driver's side, "maybe I should rethink this whole dating a doctor thing after all…" He ended with a playful smirk before opening his door and sliding in.

Bruce blinked owlishly. Dating? They were only just hanging out together for the first time outside the hospital and even if he realized it was meant to be a date, _a date_ and _dating_ were two different things right?

"Change your mind?" Tony broke through his thoughts and he saw him eyeing him curiously. "Promise I don't bite. Well, not until the situation calls for it," he added with a casual leer.

Bruce swallowed hard and his heart picked up a few beats until he breathed and it returned to something steadier. He hesitated another moment before pushing the incident aside and getting into the car.

"You…" He bit his lip as Tony began the drive to wherever they might be headed. "You probably shouldn't engage in anything too strenuous until after your check-up with Dr. Foster." He hoped he sounded like he was making a humorous observation rather than blasting his prudence through a megaphone.

"Relax, Bruce," Tony said calmly, "I wasn't actually insinuating what you think I was insinuating. Not that it's going to be easy with that," he glanced at him and gave an exaggerated impression of being turned on, " _god_. It's like a purple shirt of sex," he said and then quickly looked back at the road. Bruce suddenly felt uncomfortably aroused by Tony's appreciation and discreetly – or so he hoped – squirmed a little in the passenger seat. "But, honestly, one I'll follow Dr. Foster's little info packet. Two, I'm not about to screw up our afternoon and evening by making you think I'm just being the Tony Stark your little patients have heard about," he finished with a small chuckle. Bruce felt himself relax.

"Afternoon _and_ evening, huh?" He decided to change the topic a little. "Someone's optimistic."

"Do you ever get any other days off?" Tony's tone was teasing. "We have to double down in case I can't see you for another week."

"That's not exactly how it works," Bruce said with a laugh. "Yinsen is a wonderful facility and staffed well. I typically leave the hospital around six unless there was an emergency, long surgery, that sort of thing. So in theory we could have dinner after that if it wasn't too tiring of a day. And I do get vacation time. I just have to ask for it so another doctor can be scheduled as the attending physician in my place. And sometimes I come in for another person or if I'm absolutely needed so that affects the schedule from week to week. My days off aren't consistently the same day every week."

"Wait. You would use vacation time for a date?" Tony queried with a quick glance.

"Well, I rarely ever use it for anything else," he admitted with a huff of a laugh. "At this point I only have plans to take whatever day a couple of my colleagues plan on getting married if I need to and… every now and then I take a day when I really need it to get my head on straight again. The last time I had a consecutive vacation I spent it on a four-day humanitarian trip to Brazil and then took two days to recuperate. And only because I was told I _had_ to use some of my time up."

"What? A humanitarian trip? As a vacation?" Tony sounded disbelieving. "Are you some kind of saint? Because if you are then maybe I shouldn't get my hopes up." There was a bizarre hint of conviction in Tony's voice. "I'm definitely unworthy."

"No," Bruce said adamantly. "I'm most certainly not a saint. Or anything else of that nature." He glanced at Tony to see him looking at him sideways in a studious fashion. "There's a lot that I'm not proud of, Tony. Just last year I nearly got discharged for inappropriately handling a volatile situation," he admitted before he could process the words coming out of his mouth or put a stop to them.

"Volatile?" Tony asked as he made a turn toward a street that Bruce knew had a few higher-end diners.

Bruce sighed and contemplated continuing. Then again, maybe it was best to be up front about his character defects. Tony didn't seem to deny his.

"A mother brought her kid to the emergency room," he started. "Obvious case of extreme physical abuse. She made up some outlandish story, but then the father showed up. He started raving like a lunatic, demanding that we not treat his kid because he wasn't going to pay and…" Bruce shook his head as Tony pulled the car into a spot and put it in park.

"Hey, you okay?" Tony asked cautiously.

"No. I mean, yes, but…" He tried again. "It triggered my PTSD. That's… That's something I have," he confessed. "I became confrontational with the man instead of waiting for security or one of the other physicians. When his wife tried to calm him down, he became rough with her and I lost it. Smashed his nose and when he retaliated, nearly broke his arm. _Should_ have been discharged."

"Seriously?" Tony's tone was dubious. "For laying into an asshole who had it coming? For protecting the mother?" A cold shiver ran down Bruce's spine.

"It wasn't my place," he forced himself to say. "It was security's. There are rules in place for a reason and I'm a doctor. I have an Oath to uphold," Bruce explained in a clipped manner. "He could have brought serious charges against the hospital. Against me. I don't know if he was afraid of being investigated if that happened or what, but that's not the point. I at least should have been discharged for misconduct."

"Okay, if you're so sure then why weren't you?"

"Dr. Xavier went to the top on my behalf. Said that he could get the matter dropped. Guess he was right. Not sure if he just has a lot of sway or if he—" Bruce stopped himself short with a cough, realizing his slip. Tony laughed outright, clearly guessing the general nature of his unnecessary remark.

"I certainly hope not," Tony said, still laughing. Bruce furrowed his brow. He then remembered what Charles had said about Tony. Was Tony's comment because _he_ was the top? But if that were the case wouldn't he already know this story? Was he just feigning ignorance? "So you have a bit of a temper, huh?" Tony broke through his thoughts and Bruce looked to see he was already out of the car and looking at him.

Bruce quickly got out of the car as well. Tony came around to meet him on the sidewalk. He was studying him with a raised brow.

"I, uh," Bruce pursed his lips, "do. Yeah. I can usually manage it, but there are… some triggers."

"I think I can make a pretty good guess as to why that asshole was a trigger," Tony said with a small scowl that looked more empathetic than sympathetic.

"Uh, yeah," Bruce nodded, "only take whatever you're probably imagining and times it. By at least ten." He saw the horror fall across Tony's face, his eyes darting back and forth over Bruce's face in a stricken manner. Bruce closed his eyes against the look because it wasn't pleasant. "It's… It's not exactly something a person wants to talk about on a first date," he said honestly and hoped Tony would understand.

Bruce suddenly felt a strong and reassuring – _grounding_ – hand on his shoulder. It gave a squeeze and Bruce opened his eyes in surprise to see Tony's expression had changed to a soft, lopsided grin.

"How about the weather then?" It was a clear invitation to change the subject to something mundane and as far away from the topic of his trauma as possible. Bruce gave a soft, genuine smile in answer. "Because I was thinking if it holds out, after we grab a bite maybe we can just take a nice drive."

\-----

Tony hadn't intended on taking Bruce to his place. He'd just put the car into drive, found his usual road and before he knew it muscle memory brought them along the cliffs headed toward the front entrance of his mansion. He pulled around the cul-de-sac and put the car in park so that it faced the ocean view.

"Your place I take it?" Bruce asked with a raised brow as he glanced at Tony. There was humor playing at the edge of his lips. "You _are_ optimistic, aren't you?"

"Sorry," Tony gave a soft bark of laughter, "force of habit. Sometimes I just zone out while I'm driving back and forth between my place and LA. It's just me and the road."

"And how many speeding tickets?" Bruce teased and Tony winced.

"Yeah, there's a reason the company insists I have a driver," he said. Then he looked around uncertainly. "So, uh, we can head back now if you want. If this is... uncomfortable."

"I'm sitting in an expensive car, looking at an amazing view of the ocean with a really, _really_ attractive guy who seems to insist on getting to know me," Bruce said in a dry tone. "It's definitely uncomfortable. At first I thought I was just dreaming."

"And now?"

"Now I'm starting to get the disconcerting feeling I might just be dead."

"That's some morbid humor you've got there, Doctor," Tony replied with a snort.

"Yeah, well," Bruce gave a quick sideways shrug of his head, "sometimes it keeps a person sane."

"Right. So, uh, head back or—"

"I'm beginning to think _you're_ uncomfortable?" Bruce turned the tables.

Tony gave it a moment's thought. He then took a breath and decided to play it straight.

"Actually, I am," he answered, glancing away for half a second and then back again to see Bruce's surprised expression. Then the surprised look turned stricken. "Not because of your company!" Tony clarified in one quick breath. Bruce gave an adorable, confused and soundless 'oh' in response. Jeez, why was he even questioning that? Didn't he realize he was amazing company? "I'm uncomfortable with the prospect of making you uncomfortable unintentionally. I'm… I'm not really good at this and I'd rather not screw it up before we even get through the first date. Also… I'm usually not this forthcoming so that makes me a little uncomfortable too," he admitted, his brain just vomiting up words and confessions left and right before he could prevent them.

Bruce studied him for a moment. Then he looked down at his lap.

"I've…" Bruce hesitated. Then he looked back with a small hitch of a shoulder. "I've never been inside a mansion before."

Tony's face split open with a smile so wide it practically hurt his cheeks. Regaining his swagger, he got out of the car and came around to the other side. Bruce chuckled a little and followed him with his eyes. Tony leaned against the passenger door.

"Allow me to give you the dime tour." He took a step back as Bruce got out of the car.

"I don't have a dime."

"Hmm," Tony hummed in exaggerated thoughtfulness, "well, I guess I can waive the fee since you got my heart started again." Tony quickly turned to lead him into the house, partly because that statement was maybe a little too accurate.

Once inside Bruce looked around like he didn't know how to take it all in. Tony preened a little. This was just the beginning. The space he really couldn't wait to show him was his workshop.

"I thought houses like this only existed on television," Bruce interrupted his giddy thoughts when they reached his workout room. "You box?" he asked in regards to the boxing ring.

"Surprised?"

"Honestly," Bruce said with a crease in his brow as he turned and perched against the boxing ring floor, "I don't know why, but I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around you doing a lot of things." He glanced at Tony in a guilty fashion, his entire body sagged against the ring. He looked suddenly weary like if he were back at the hospital dealing with the drama of caring for kids with illnesses. "I guess… On the one hand, there's the you I sort of knew about from media and other things." Bruce paused and Tony waited for him to go on. "Then there's the person I've seen the past few days at the hospital. A pretty amazing person with more substance than people give you credit for. Also, you…" Bruce bit his lip and looked down. "You're really great with kids. Steve especially. He's really taken with you." Tony thought he heard a bit of a jealous undertone to Bruce's statement, but he had to wonder if Bruce even realized it was there. Bruce looked back and Tony decided to leave that particular topic be for now. "I guess I'm just trying to figure out which one is the real you. That you might also be a guy that boxes or does anything at all in his spare time is beside the point."

"Is it okay if maybe I'm a little bit of both of those guys, with boxing and other hobbies thrown in for good measure?" Tony asked earnestly. "I've been the worst version the media has ever portrayed and I've been the best. And, honestly, the me you met in the hospital is a bit of a surprise to even me. Well, on that level anyhow. Want to talk about not being a saint? I'm definitely not one." Bruce looked slightly stunned and like he wanted to disagree. "But how many of us are only the person we portray, hmm?"

"That..." Bruce looked away. "That's actually a fair point. I guess we all have our secrets, don't we?" He still didn't make eye contact.

"And then some secrets have secrets on top of that," Tony agreed. Bruce snorted and glanced back. Tony decided to change the tangent slightly. "Let me show you something."

He gestured with his head for Bruce to follow and at last he led Bruce to his workshop. It was a place few people ever went, his private sanctuary so to speak.

The lights came on automatically and Bruce's eyes went wide as he took in the array of cars in the attached garage, the unfinished projects scattered here and there, the wall of finished projects displayed and protected behind glass, and the score of other things that made up the space. Bruce turned and looked at him in awe. He opened his mouth to say something when he was suddenly surrounded by whirring machines. He looked down and around at them in confusion.

"Hey, back, back you three," Tony intervened and they rolled backwards. "Give Dr. Banner some space. Sorry. They… get a little enthusiastic over people who aren't me visiting."

" _They_?"

"Uh, yeah. That's You," Tony pointed at one. "There's Butterfingers. Aptly named. Trust me." He pointed again. "And then there's…" He turned and looked around to see the other had retreated towards a workbench. "That's Dummy," he said with a shake of his head and quick glance at Bruce to see his incredulous, albeit amused, expression. "Hey, Dummy," he called to the third robot. "What are you doing, Dummy? You know you're not supposed to be over there unsupervised." Dummy returned then with a screwdriver in his pincher. He held it out to Bruce. "What do you want him to do? Play fetch?" Tony asked the bot and Dummy hung its head dejectedly.

"I really hope this isn't laden with innuendo," Bruce said with a wry chuckle as he looked down at the screwdriver. "Because I'm not exactly robosexual." Tony barked out a laugh at the unexpected joke. Bruce then turned a playfully suspicious look toward him. "Unless _you_ trained him to do this?" Tony felt like he'd sucked on some helium as he smiled and shook his head. "Huh," Bruce toned and looked back down at Dummy with a furrowed brow. Dummy perked back up and twisted his pincher in a way that Tony likened to a dog cocking its head. "Oh, wait," Bruce suddenly said.

"What?" Tony glanced at Bruce as he crouched down a little.

"I think I see the problem. He has a loose screw right here," Bruce said pointing to one of the screws near the pincher. Tony narrowed his eyes and inspected the spot. Sure enough he could tell Bruce was right. He watched as Bruce tightened it. He then stood back up again while Dummy made a delighted, chirping noise. Bruce chuckled. "You're welcome, uh, Dummy."

"Don't get any wrong ideas. You still have a screw loose," Tony teased the bot and then shooed him off. He looked at Bruce who seemed a little confused by the whole ordeal. "The bots like you. I may just have to keep you now."

"So _this_ is the real you." Bruce held up the screwdriver in an open palm for him to take. "You really are an engineer at heart, aren't you?"

"You're the one who noticed the loose screw," Tony deflected, feeling Bruce's query settle somewhere in his chest – likely near said electrically-regulated heart.

Bruce went tense and turned quickly to begin inspecting the space more thoroughly. Tony sighed. He'd wrestled with himself about the if, when, and how of bringing up the elephant in the room.

"What's this?" Bruce's curious tone pulled Tony over to him. "Is this… It almost looks like a miniature arc reactor." Tony smiled because the man couldn't seem to escape the other part of him that Tony knew existed.

"It is," he answered and Bruce looked up at him in surprise. "It's a bit of a theory, prototype, whatever you want to call it," he explained with a shrug. "Essentially a new kind of pace maker. Right now it powers that suit over there." Tony turned and pointed to the suit of specialized armor he'd been tinkering with over the past handful of years as a sort of hobby. "It's a potentially customizable exoskeleton," he gave a quick explanation. "It could help rescue workers safely remove heavy debris. I have an idea for a suit that could work underwater. Also it could, in theory, protect soldiers or humanitarian workers when they go into war zones without necessarily being a deadly weapon, but I'm not sure I trust the military not to turn it into a weapon anyways." Bruce tensed again and Tony quickly shifted that thought. "Mostly it just looks badass so why not?"

"But as a pacemaker," Bruce looked back at the small arc reactor, "that much power could theoretically—"

"Power a person's heart for about fifty lifetimes," Tony cut over him with a nod. "Yeah, I mean, not that I'm going for immortality, but it would potentially be more stable, less likely to break down the same way pacemakers do now. There wouldn't be the worry of outside electromagnetic pulses interfering with the tech."

"And the core?" Bruce questioned, glancing up at him. His face was scrunched in such a way that screamed pure, scientific inquiry and Bruce was just so damn attractive, talking to him easily about advanced physics and engineering, that Tony's breath hitched. "You'd have to have some kind of element powering the core to create the electromagnetic field you're suggesting."

"I—" Tony stopped himself. He wanted to say something wildly inappropriate about how very turned on he was at the moment, but Bruce seemed so genuinely in the moment that he didn't want to ruin it. "Yeah, see, that's the kicker. The reason it's only powering that suit over there. Right now the core is powered by palladium."

"And you can't put that in the body," Bruce said in understanding.

"Not without risking severe poisoning over time. So one of the projects at Resilient is to find a suitable replacement."

Bruce nodded and opened his mouth, but was interrupted.

"If I may interject, sir, I feel I must concur with your previous hypothesis regarding keeping Dr. Banner."

"What the hell!?" Bruce jumped and clutched at his heart. He was breathing deeply and for a second his eyes looked a little frenzied. "Who was that?"

"Uh, that was my personal artificial intelligence," Tony answered with a nervous chuckle. "Sorry for not warning you. That was… You okay?" He looked at Bruce strangely. He seemed to be really good and spooked there for a minute, but now he had calmed again. Bruce nodded. "His name is J.A.R.V.I.S. and he's essentially the most sophisticated artificial sentience on the planet, as far as I'm concerned anyhow." Tony pointed to a transparent computer screen and led Bruce over to it. He pulled up a real time view of the AI's system. Bruce moved around to the other side and studied it. "But he's more than that."

"Yes, I'm also Mr. Stark's butler and babysitter," J.A.R.V.I.S. replied.

"Pepper's words. And Rhodey's," Tony clarified. "Give a proper greeting, J. You'll make him think I didn't program you with any manners."

"You didn't," J.A.R.V.I.S. said smoothly. "It is very nice to meet you, Dr. Banner. I must admit I never expected myself to be pleased at Mr. Stark bringing home a companion again, but I _was_ beginning to get concerned for him," the AI said with sass. Tony's eyes widened and Bruce laughed, his previous discomfort seemingly all gone now.

"I think your AI just told on you," the doctor said in a teasing tone. "Does Tony Stark need help getting his groove back?" Tony couldn't resist that kind of opening.

"Only if you're the one offering." Bruce's amusement fell and their eyes locked from opposite sides of the transparent computer screen. There was a thick air that enveloped them and lingered for a moment. Then the moment passed as Bruce cleared his throat and ducked his head.

"This is all really amazing, Tony," Bruce finally broke the silence.

"Yeah, but the media couldn't care less about a guy who spends hours upon hours in a workshop talking to robots and artificial intelligence. Actually," Tony added in consideration, "it's probably for the best the media doesn't know about J.A.R.V.I.S. at all."

Bruce snorted at that and began looking around at the various projects scattered here and there again, moving around the workshop. He stopped suddenly as if startled and Tony craned his neck to try and see what had gotten his attention. He winced when he realized what it was.

"And they'd make a heyday out of it if they knew the most revered and talked about hospital in the country is your brainchild." Bruce turned away from the scaled architectural model of Yinsen Memorial to look at him. "Is that it?"

"That's a lot of it, yes," Tony answered in a slow, deliberate fashion. "It's maybe a little more complicated than that. But…" He hitched a shoulder. "It's for the best that few people know about my involvement. Better for everyone. I have a tower in New York as a monument to my ego. This is a monument to Dr. Ho Yinsen. What he stood for."

Bruce looked back down over his shoulder at the model. He seemed uncertain. He was contemplating something.

"You knew Dr. Yinsen?"

"He was my doctor after," Tony swallowed hard, "well, after the accident. He… he was my doctor and my friend," Tony said as evenly as possible.

"You made sure Cassie got her funding after we had lunch, didn't you?" Bruce turned his gaze back. Tony blinked. "Are you in charge of all of them?"

"I… haven't been, no," he admitted. "There are others in charge. They follow whatever guidelines the Board has deemed appropriate. I just sign the settlements paperwork approving payment of the fund every Friday morning and then somebody pushes the finalized payments through in the system."

"Oh. So you… you couldn't sign the paperwork," Bruce said in understanding.

"When you mentioned it, I spoke with Pepper and got the paperwork signed that night," Tony confirmed. "But… if this is about Steve…" Bruce blinked several times and glanced away. "I promise you I won't let anything happen to his funding. Hell, the funding comes from one of my accounts," he confessed, "so whether the fund or out of my own pocket I'd never allow that to happen."

Bruce moved his head back slowly. His eyes had the tell-tale gleam of tears and the studied Tony like he wasn't sure if he was real or if he knew how to process Tony's statement. Then he licked his lip and dropped his head. He wrung his hands together and Tony saw his hard swallow.

"Thank you," the other man finally whispered. "I guess that makes two of us," he said a little louder then.

He looked up again and met Tony's eyes with his own. It was a confession. It was the confirmation that Bruce was also willing to fight for Steve to go on getting better, so much so that maybe he'd take matters into his own hands if he had to. That definitely had to mean something.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! I've been working hard to get this finished and polished up in celebration of a day all about hearts :) Also, another huge thank you to the virtual hugs and encouraging words many of you left me on the last thing I posted. It helped me to take a breath and take a step back and then to get excited and energetic about this fic again**.

Tony made an obscenely pleased noise as he took another bite of his carbonara. His reactions continued to erase any trepidation Bruce may have had before about his somewhat silly, and forward, offer to cook them dinner before he headed back home. In its place was a small sense of pride at eliciting said reactions from the other man.

"Mmm," Tony moaned before swallowing. "You sure you made this using ingredients you found in _my_ kitchen?" Bruce chuckled a little before taking a bite of his own. "Because I just don't see how. I think you might be a food wizard or something."

"If I were a food wizard," Bruce commented after he swallowed and then took a small sip of his equally small glass of wine, "I'm not so sure I'd be beating myself up in the medical profession. As horrible as that sounds," he then added with a wince.

Tony snorted and said, "I don't think _anyone_ would do something super taxing if they were a food wizard." He then took a long sip of his wine, keeping his eyes fixed on Bruce as he did. The gaze was warm and scrutinizing both. Bruce wasn't sure if he wanted it to linger or to offer him reprieve. "But, I don't know." He pulled the glass away and held it at chest level, looking down into it. "I know you say you wouldn't be a doctor." He looked up again and Bruce searched his face for a clue of what might be coming next. "And I can understand that sentiment since I don't know how you do it as it is. But you seem to care about all of those little munchkins, you know? Could you really just walk away from that?"

Bruce furrowed his brow. He looked down at his mostly empty plate. It was an interesting hypothetical question. There were plenty of days he wanted to just walk away and find something else. But he hadn't yet so maybe that was the answer?

"I…" He licked his lips and shrugged. "I don't know," he said in non-answer. "It's not really something I try to think about seriously," he tried to explain. "Sure, like you said, there are days you hate your job, but that doesn't mean much. It's still your job. And… and like I said before, this job really shifted my life and perspective for me." He glanced down and then took another bite of food. Then he said, "And I had a little nudge from a pretty amazing doctor." He glanced back up to see Tony's questioning gaze as he went to take another bite of his own dinner. "Dr. Yinsen."

Tony's eyebrows shot up and the fork returned to the plate with a small clang. His mouth was open, but nothing came out. He seemed unable to put into words anything he wanted to say even though Bruce could see his mind racing with thoughts just beyond his eyes.

"I knew him very briefly," Bruce supplied what might be some answer to Tony's unspoken questions. "He was an amazing man. He had the dream, you know? A respected job, a beautiful wife and children that he thought the world of." He heard the small hitch in Tony's breath. "I know," he whispered. "I know what happened." He let out a breath. "But at the time he was just a man to admire. Someone who'd overcome adversity to be great and have a wonderful life. So I decided to give medicine a try." He didn't add that he'd already had a sizable foundation with his other degrees to help him make the choice. "And, as soon as I heard about Yinsen Memorial," he explained, "I knew I had to try and work there. It seemed like, well, I don't know, a sign that I'd made the right choice and now I could honor his memory by doing everything in my power to help patients with the same attitude he'd had. I fail miserably at it, but—"

"That's only because you're not him," Tony finally found his voice, but Bruce had to admit he wasn't expecting that blunt of a statement. "You're not Dr. Yinsen. But you _are_ Dr. Bruce Banner." Bruce blinked. "Which means you have something entirely you to bring to the table." He took a breath. "Dr. Yinsen saved my life the first time. He saved the life of a floundering prick and not just because he performed one of the most extensive operations in the country at the time. His colleagues, his training as a doctor, told him that it wasn't worth that much trouble. That even if they could manage to get the life-threatening bits of shrapnel out of my body it wouldn't matter because my heart had already sustained enough damage that I might go into cardiac arrest at any time and it all be for nothing."

Bruce winced and his heart beat too quickly for comfort. He didn't mean to be rude, but he scraped his chair backwards and stood up, wanting to flee. He took a few breaths and then gave Tony an apologetic look before grabbing his finished plate and carrying it to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry," he said with a shaky breath when he felt Tony's presence behind him. "I just… I guess I thought about what might have happened if—" He couldn't finish.

"If he were still alive," Tony spoke in a soft, solemn tone of the man who'd died very suddenly and unexpectedly, "I'm sure he'd be happy that you were around to start my heart back up a second time. After all he did to make it functional." Tony was beside him at the counter, placing his own plate aside. Bruce glanced sidelong at him. "And that's the thing. After I realized I'd been living in a house of cards, Dr. Yinsen helped me to put things into perspective. I have wealth and power and influence." He sighed and Bruce turned to look at him fully. "But none of that matters if you don't have a heart to do something with it."

Tony turned and walked away. Bruce followed him until they were back in the great room. Tony picked up his wine glass from the dinette and took a drink before putting it back down.

"Before Dr. Yinsen," Tony said, "my heart was just an organ that pumped blood and kept me alive so I could do absolutely nothing good with my life. Gambling, weapons, sex, drugs, booze, more sex, and then more sex on top of that." Each word was said in a bitter way. "Now it beats irregularly." He turned and tapped at his heart. "Even with that little device in my chest, I still feel it sometimes. When it takes a few seconds too long to regulate the beat or when I'm exerting myself and it can't keep up or," he sighed, "when I'm lying in my bed with nothing but my thoughts and worst nightmares for company. Maybe that last bit is my imagination, but I can feel it. My mind… My thoughts are always going at the speed of sound at least. My heart… It can't keep up."

His eyes focused on Bruce's for a long moment before he ducked his head and shook it. Bruce took a few steps forward, closing the space between them. He couldn't help himself. He slowly moved two fingers to Tony's carotid artery. Tony closed his eyes and leaned into the small touch.

"I don't think I've ever felt a stronger heartbeat, Tony." His voice was barely above a hoarse whisper. "It's a strong, steady counterpoint to guide all of those thoughts you have. I—" He stopped himself and let his hand fall. "A lot of people would give anything to have that."

Tony opened his eyes and there was an appreciative light there. Then his own hand came up and Bruce flinched when he realized what Tony was about to do. Tony noticed and stopped, looking at him in askance. Bruce took a deep breath and swallowed hard before giving a small nod. Tony's hand moved the rest of the way to find Bruce's pulse. It didn't take long for Tony's eyebrows to knit in realization that it was beating quickly. Very quickly.

"How about that." Tony's voice was low and like silk and it only made Bruce's heart beat faster. "Your heart matches the rhythm in my head."

The two fingers on Bruce's pulse point became all of them, a deliberate touch, as Tony's eyes met his with intense focus. Bruce knew what was coming, but couldn't look away, couldn't move. He wanted it to happen more than was good for him and his eyes must have betrayed that inclination to the other man because Tony slowly began to move in toward him. Bruce closed his eyes, anticipation pumping through his veins, and met him in the middle.

It was just a small, testing press of lips at first, as most first kisses usually were. It wasn't the kind of heady kiss with sparks flying and an immediate need for closer contact. Instead it was achingly tender, like both of them knew what they could stand to lose if this ended up being a miscalculation on their parts, and that was far more heart-shattering and breath-stealing and intoxicating than any lusty spark because it settled deep into Bruce's chest and smothered him with all of the emotions he kept compartmentalized there for his own preservation. With just a small press of lips Tony Stark became his fourth weakness. Then again, maybe he'd become his fourth weakness the moment their eyes had met from across the restaurant.

That was probably part of the reason it didn't stay a small kiss for long. Tony pulled away just enough to look at him, gauge his reaction, and silently ask if it was okay. Bruce answered by taking a breath and giving a small smile as he touched his lips to Tony's again. It was still tender, but the need for more began to take over. The press of their lips became firmer and then came the inevitable slide as their lips searched out the different ways they slotted together. Somewhere in there, Tony pulled lightly on his bottom lip and when they both parted enough for a quick intake of air it left their lips parted for the kiss to deepen if they wanted.

It didn't deepen right away, both of them maintaining a gentle pace, but when it finally did Bruce felt all of the dizzying effects of kissing Tony. He couldn’t recall any lips as consuming as Tony's at the present moment. Then again at the present moment his senses were too clouded by other things. Like the two large hands wrapped around the base of his neck, thumbs resting along his jaw. The scratch of facial hair against his own five o'clock shadow. The scent of Tony's skin pressed against his nose – a mixture of fading cologne and natural musk accumulated through the day. And definitely the way they seemed to stumble across the room in a drunken stupor until they found a sofa.

"Why me?" The question left Bruce's mouth when he broke away in need of air. He looked at Tony, but his head was too fuzzy, like he'd drank more wine than he should have, to say or do anything else to get his point across.

"Why would I be interested in a gorgeous man who had my attention the second I laid eyes on him?" Tony seemed to get the point anyways and punctuated his sentence with a kiss. "Why would I be exponentially _more_ interested in a gorgeous man when he turns out to be someone whose company I genuinely enjoy? You're right," he nodded and then smirked against his lips, "I don't know what's good for me."

Bruce's eyes widened before giving into the chemistry again. He let it and Tony's words check his doubts for now. He didn't understand, but he wanted this too much already for him to dwell on it. Tony occupied his space with everything he could, his mouth and hands leading the way, and it felt inexplicably safe. Getting lost in Tony's touch felt more like coming home instead.

Then, for a scary second it didn't and Bruce pulled back, gasping the word, "Heart." Tony's hands were immediately gentle and his eyes searching for a way to calm him. "I'm sorry."

"No, hey, no it's fine," Tony said, even if Bruce could read the small bit of disappointment on his face. "I promised you. I mean, yeah, I don't think a little making out is going to mess with my heart, but I get it. And if it makes you feel uncomfortable then—"

His eyes widened and Bruce closed his own tight when he saw the brilliant deduction that flashed across Tony's face. He pursed his lips as one of Tony's hands brushed slowly back down to his carotid artery. Two of his fingers lingered gently for a second, but then pressed firmly against his pulse. Bruce swallowed hard against the feeling and let out a shaky breath. All of his good reasons for avoiding relationships started running through his head again, with one clamoring loudest of all at the moment. Clamoring in time with the abnormal beat of his heart.

"All the best people do," Tony said. It was a strange thing to say, but stranger still was that it sounded like he was smiling. Bruce opened his eyes and found that he was, a wide smile and giddy gleam dancing in his eyes. "Is that how you knew Dr. Yinsen?"

"Yes," Bruce admitted as Tony removed his hand and gave him the space he needed. Bruce closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. "There was, well, an accident. It," his lips twitched and he took yet another deep breath, "well, it put me in a really bad place. In more ways than one," he tried to explain without really explaining. He couldn't handle everything right now, not with his heart rate already where it was. "But, uh, it left me with tachycardia, among a few other things."

"So your heart beats too fast sometimes, right?" Tony clarified and Bruce nodded. "Are you okay? Should it be beating that fast right now?"

"Um…" Bruce took a moment to continue his response. "Well, I have medicine. When, uh, when it gets too out of control or if I know I'm going to be under a high amount of stress or exertion. But it hasn't been that bad for a while. I strictly limit my caffeine intake and alcohol is a rarity for me—"

"Shit, was it the wine?" Tony asked immediately. Bruce blinked.

"Maybe a little," he considered. "It certainly probably didn't help anyway." He looked at Tony to see his concerned expression. "Thing is, I'm not fond of the medicine… which, you know, may be ironic. I'm not trying to say I'm anti-meds or anything." He focused, trying not to lose the point. "But… I've learned a lot of breathing techniques and other holistic coping mechanisms to help when it does get to be an issue. It helps me from getting too dependent… again." He glanced away, guilt bubbling to the surface.

There was a long minute of silence and Bruce had to wonder what Tony might be thinking. If Tony was telling the truth earlier, then he was probably thinking a whole lot of things at once so Bruce wondered how many of those thoughts were about him. Tony could probably think a great many bad things about the situation in the short span of silence.

"So is that why you tiptoe around the subject?" Tony finally asked. "You can't be intimate?"

"I—" Bruce blinked. "Are you asking your doctor if his heart is healthy enough for sex?" Bruce deflected with raised eyebrows and incredulous expression.

"Guess I am," Tony answered with an easy laugh. "And here I thought it'd be the other way around." Then Tony's face became serious again. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Well, it might be a little rude if I didn't all things considered," Bruce replied, but he was grateful for Tony's thoughtfulness just the same. He sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. Theoretically, I can be physically intimate with someone. I have the medicine so my heart shouldn't actually jump beyond a dangerous rate any more than it would if I were exercising. And then it should come back down after the fact." He shrugged.

There was another moment of silence that seemed to stretch on for eternity, but couldn't have been more than twenty or thirty seconds.

"But you can still feel it," Tony broke it. "Every irregular beat, real or imagined. Panic sets in. You wonder if maybe this is the moment it's too much for your body to handle. Or too little," he added, conviction in his voice. Tony understood, Bruce realized.

"Yeah." Bruce sighed and wrung his hands in his lap, looking down at them. "So, uh, it's been a while since..." He waved one of those hands in a vague gesture of his last relationship. He sighed again and closed his eyes. He opened them again when Tony rubbed a hand soothingly over his, stilling his motions. Bruce looked at him with uncertainty.

"I get it," Tony said after a moment. "I mean, hey, you heard J.A.R.V.I.S. earlier."

"Earlier?" Bruce furrowed his brow as he recalled what J.A.R.V.I.S. had said. Then it struck him. "Oh," he said, pieces starting to add up.

"You're not the only one that can't always get out of his head." Tony searched his eyes and squeezed his hand. "So don't think for a second that I don't want to give this a try just because we both have a couple of health issues to work around. That's probably the least of the issues you'd have to deal with on my end," he added in self-derision. "But I also understand if," he glanced away, "if you'd rather not—"

"Tony," his name escaped Bruce's lips before he could give it a second thought. There must have been clear longing in his expression and tone because Tony smiled and then leaned in to kiss him softly.

"Are you sure?" Tony asked, a whisper against his lips.

That wasn't an easily answered question. It was like he was two people, one screaming no and the other whispering yes.

"No," he compromised, "but I want to try."

Tony kissed him again before slowly moving into a position, and guiding Bruce along with him, so that Bruce was mainly on top. Bruce studied him with more than a little curiosity.

"So then you set the pace," Tony explained. "Show me what you need this to be, Bruce."

"I—" Bruce was startled. He wasn't used to this kind of trust or control in a relationship, or maybe he wasn't used to allowing himself to think he deserved it. "I don't know what it needs to be," he confessed.

"Then we'll figure it out together," Tony replied, caressing his fingers through Bruce's hair and sending Bruce's heart racing just with the look in his eyes. But as scary as that feeling always was, he wasn't sure he wanted to lose the trade-off of having Tony look at him like that. "But until then I still need you to lead. Get us started."

Bruce took a deep breath and nodded, emotions filling his lungs and constricting his chest. As strange as it seemed, in spite of his beating heart, he felt safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. In case the timeline of their separate relation to Yinsen was a little fuzzy, it's essentially going based on the original timeline of Iron Man and The Incredible Hulk happening in the year they were released, 2008. And in The Incredible Hulk it had been about five years since Bruce's incident so going on that as a guideline, Bruce knew Yinsen prior to Tony. Bruce was helped by him, went off to medical school, and in the interim Tony had his accident and was saved by Yinsen - who at this time, like the movies, had already lost his family.  
> 2\. And then of course Yinsen "died very suddenly and unexpectedly" aka [insert undisclosed tragedy here] prompting Tony to build Yinsen Memorial.  
> 3\. And we've finally reached one of the first plot points that majorly inspired me to write this fic - the twist of all three of them having arrhythmia + Bruce and Tony's opposite conditions having an affect on the physical aspect of their relationship.  
> 4\. A handful of chapters will be singular pov, alternating from one chapter to another whose pov it is - because the chapters were just too long that it didn't flow right otherwise imo.
> 
> ** Okay, so this fic really did a number on my anxiety. There was just so many wonderful comments and well thought out theories and hopes and visions for where this story might or could go that I felt very very inadequate for a time when I compared what others could come up with to my very limited vision for where I wanted the story to go. And being selfish, and definitely not good at the whole 'death of the author' thing, I was very very attached to the ending I'd already written and the plot points I had brainstormed if not yet actualized, making me torn between wanting to deliver something more deserving of what my amazing readers could come up with and what I'd envisioned. In the end I decided to stick with my guns for better or for worse and I decided I wouldn't post anything again until I had the fic finished and could upload it all at once; my nerves and second-guessing just couldn't handle sitting on comments from one update to the next with this particular fic. I hope that the fic will still deliver something enjoyable from here on out, and I'll of course have a little something more to say about it at the very very end. Until then, thank you for the encouragement and patience you all are so wonderfully apt to give me just the same.
> 
> (Also uploading this has been a freaking beast with all the A03 timeouts and errors.)


	11. Chapter 11

"Wha…? The hell…?" Tony mumbled as he came back to the waking world, his sleep interrupted by… Wind chimes? Is that what that was? It also sounded like he was in Asia or something. He groaned and started to stretch, but then his eyes flew open in realization.

Lying almost flush atop him was Bruce. He was asleep, though he seemed to be stirring. The evening before returned to him and it dawned on him that at some point their very lazy make out session must have turned into more cuddling than kissing and then lulled them both to sleep. He wasn't sure if they should both feel embarrassingly old or if it was kind of endearing for them to have fallen asleep in each other's arms without the usual context.

Tony didn't get a chance to consider it too long before Bruce's hand was suddenly on his face and patting at it as he mumbled, "Okay, I'm up. I'm u—" Bruce's eyes flew open this time and he scrambled up and off, albeit a little awkwardly no doubt from having just been in a deep sleep. "Tony?" He blinked owlishly and rubbed at his eyes, maybe wondering if he was imagining things. Tony sat up with a groan, wondering what time it was. "Tony… Oh god. Did we? Did we fall asleep?" he asked, his voice gravelly from lack of use in a way that Tony would probably appreciate a little bit more if he were actually awake to do so.

"Uh, yep." Tony nodded and gave a weak smirk. "Seems like it." The wind chimes returned and Tony scowled. "Where the hell is that coming from?"

"It's my alarm," Bruce answered as he felt his pockets in search of something. "The chimes, uh, they wake me up gently." He'd been reaching for his phone apparently because he pulled it out and a few seconds later the chimes were gone. "Sorry," he apologized as he scrubbed hand down his face. "I, I hope somebody can cover my shift," he then said, his voice shifting from tired to panic. He shut his eyes tight and Tony could tell he was berating himself for the mistake. Which wasn't the kind of satisfying reaction one might hope for after spending the night together.

"When do you have to be there?" Tony asked. He found his own phone to check the time and gave another small scowl when he saw it.

"Doesn't matter," Bruce said with a sigh. "I'm going to be late. I'll have to call a cab and then go home and change and then either keep him waiting or call another one since my car's still at the hospital."

Tony looked him over and ignored his urge to close his eyes and go back to sleep. Bruce looked genuinely distressed at his gaff and it tugged at his heart. The day before was so wonderful that he didn't want Bruce to have regrets already. Not to mention he felt a stronger urge to fix this for him than to go back to sleep.

"No need for all of that," he said, stretching first and then standing to his feet. "I'm sure I've got some clothes that will fit you okay enough. And you're free to use the shower. Then I can take you back to the hospital."

Bruce blinked up at him as if his head was having a hard time processing the offer. Then he glanced at his phone for a long moment. Finally, he looked back up with a small smile.

"I'll still need to call in to let them know I might be little late, depending on traffic," Bruce said as he stood up and stretched as well. When their eyes met again Bruce was much calmer. "Thanks. I'm sure you're tired."

He followed as Tony led him to his bedroom. He had to chuckle internally at how backwards this seemed compared to the way he used to operate. Back when he had everything and nothing. He glanced over at the other man and realized he was okay with the change.

"A little tired," he admitted with a soft bark of laughter. "But it's fine."

"You'd better take something for the inevitable crick in your neck."

"Saying I'm old, Dr. Banner?" Tony teased as he led him into the closet. "Saying I can't cuddle like a younger man?" Bruce snorted softly and shook his head.

"No, your cuddling skills were sufficient," Bruce teased back, but his voice had a nervous edge to it.

Tony looked him over a few more times and selected a yellow dress shirt he'd never worn before and a pair of suit pants. He wasn't sure Bruce would really want the matching jacket and tie, but he'd offer just the same. He set them aside and then led him to the bathroom.

"As were yours," Tony smiled, "but next time maybe we should cuddle at your place since it's closer to your job."

"You really don't have to take me—" Bruce misinterpreted.

"Maybe I meant so we could have cuddled a little longer," Tony countered before pulling a towel from the closet connecting the two spaces. He turned to hand it to Bruce only to see he had a dumbstruck expression on his face as he took in the bathroom. "Yeah, it's a little indulgent, I'll admit," he said with a chuckle.

"A little?" Bruce repeated. "I'm not sure I'd even know how to work your shower, Tony."

"Was that a covert proposition?" Tony raised an eyebrow. Bruce's eyes widened. "I'm kidding," Tony reassured him. "As much as I like the idea of a nice, lazy shower with you, I don't think it would be conducive on a time crunch. So... J.A.R.V.I.S., start the shower," he said, and it turned on, taking Bruce by surprise. "You good with eggs and toast?"

"Yes?"

"Then shower up and I'll get us a quick breakfast made." He turned to leave, but Bruce reached for his arm to stop him. Tony saw what he wanted before Bruce could say anything. Tony pulled him into a closed-mouth kiss. It was just as good as the evening before, even as brief and almost chaste as it was. "Next time though we'll go full stop. Cuddling _and_ a lazy morning routine." Tony wondered if Bruce realized he'd given a small sigh against his lips as they pulled away.

As promised, Tony made them some breakfast after changing and freshening up in a guest bathroom. It was a quick, domestic thing to eat standing around the kitchen island with Bruce. Bruce asked him a little more about his day to day job and what time he went into work to make small chat, and because Tony suspected he still felt bad for waking him up at an indecent hour.

The ride back to the hospital was another domestic thing entirely. The day before it had been a nice drive with his brain on autopilot as it pondered where things would lead. This time they it felt like they were already a seasoned couple, sharing the usual daily commute, complete with Bruce heckling him he'd rather be late to work than not make it there at all. There had also been some completely offensive jokes thrown back and forth about their contrary pulses. Everything about it felt normal and familiar.

"Next time I'm taking a taxi," Bruce gave one last jab when they reached the hospital parking. "Right there," he indicated and Tony pulled into the space next to the car he assumed must be Bruce's. Bruce then looked down at his phone. "Oh my god. I'm ten minutes early. _How_?"

"The only thing slow about me is my heart beat," Tony replied with a shrug as he put the car into park. He winced when Bruce's eyebrows moved up in a wry fashion. "That came out wrong."

"Did it now?" Bruce asked with a chuckle.

"Something tells me you won't believe me until I prove it," Tony flirted.

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but then paused and furrowed his brow before muttering, "Oh, you've got to be kidding."

"Huh?" Tony scrunched his face and then followed his line of sight.

Several cars over from where they were parked, they could clearly see Charles in the backseat of another vehicle with none other than Lensherr. Tony wasn't sure what the two men were doing could be classified as making out since they looked like they might be a few mere seconds away from saying the hell with where they were and moving on from tongue-fucking to the actual thing.

"Oh god." Bruce flinched beside him and turned his head sharply, hand flying up to shield his peripheral vision the moment Lensherr's hands pushed open Charles' unbuttoned shirt and ducked his head down to let his mouth assault his skin in a way that made Charles throw his head back against the seat. "Jeez, Chuck," he breathed out in obvious annoyance, "here in the _parking lot_?"

Tony couldn't help it and started laughing at the whole situation. Bruce lowered his hand and flicked his eyes toward him, anything but amused if his small glare was an indication. That of course only made Tony laugh a little more. Finally, Bruce broke and started snickering as well.

"On the bright side," Tony pointed out, "at least you're not the only one doing the metaphorical walk of shame this morning." Bruce glared harder, but it was playful and without any real malice.

"Not that I'm judging, but I'm not sure Charles even knows the meaning of that phrase."

"You're probably right," Tony conceded. Then with a small smirk he leaned over and kissed Bruce; it was long and deep and Bruce reciprocated more than his fair share of it. "And you shouldn't know the meaning either," Tony told him when they broke apart.

Bruce smiled, one of his small ones that already did something funny to Tony. Then he opened the passenger door and got out. To Tony's slight surprise, Bruce leaned back in for one more quick kiss.

"No shame," he agreed. "I'm usually pretty overwhelmed after a day off," he warned then.

"So we'll talk about the next date later." Tony understood his meaning. "You've got my number now so just, you know, give me a call or text whenever. And I can text you right? While you're on duty?"

"Yeah," Bruce answered. "I just won't respond until downtime."

"Got it. Have a good day, handsome." Bruce ducked his head and shook it like he didn't believe that, but a smile touched his lips just the same when he said goodbye and left him.

Tony watched him go until he was inside the building. Then he sat there for several long moments in a daze, thinking about the past crazy week. He was only broken from his reverie when he caught sight of the tall object of Charles' affection strolling back toward the building, recomposed and alone. Tony turned his head to see Charles standing against the side of the car, watching the other man with an expression on his face that suggested he just couldn't stand to see him go. Tony wondered if that's what he looked like watching Bruce leave.

Tony couldn't resist. He got out of his car and approached Charles as casually as possible. Being a practical telepath about these things, Charles addressed him before he even got there and without turning to look at him.

"I usually have more tact than that," was Charles' opening statement.

"Sure? Because I've heard a couple of stories about you that would suggest otherwise," he ribbed.

"Ass. Like you're one to talk. Your stories are far more numerous than mine, my friend." Charles looked at him finally. "I meant," he drawled, head bobbling slightly to go along with his patronizing tone, "I don't normally do this sort of thing in broad daylight when many of my colleagues are starting their shifts. And I most certainly have rules about fraternization with my patients' parents."

"You do?"

"Don't sound so surprised," Charles warned with a small laugh and Tony held up his hands in surrender. "Regardless of my reputation I _do_ try to restrict these activities to outside the hospital and preferably until after the patient has been discharged. After all, you realize it would be very messy to get _too_ heavily involved with a patient's parent amidst the uncertainty of this job, right? I would never want to unintentionally hurt a child by putting a relationship of any magnitude with the guardian first."

"So," Tony narrowed his eyes, "what you're saying here is you're playing with fire with this one. He's different? I mean, you just saved his kid's life a couple of days ago. I get he might be grateful, but—"

"Oh, it's in very bad taste," Charles interrupted. "I know it is. This isn't anything at all like your thing with Dr. Banner. You were technically never his patient and I'm sure the rules wouldn't apply to you and him if you didn't want them to," he said in insinuation of his investment in the hospital. "Me on the other hand, well, the other members of the Board might just have me ousted for this if they were to find out how careless I'm being with this one. But, yes, I think he's different," he finally answered the question, and did so with a sigh. "I dare say he'd have to be since I've only known him a couple days and now every time I see him I'm not sure if I'd rather he drag me to the nearest supply closet and get on with it or get down on one knee and ask me to marry him so that we can adopt at least a dozen brothers and sisters for Wanda and Pietro."

"Okay, that's not playing with fire. That's playing with crazy," Tony said with a grimace.

"Yes, well, perhaps. But speaking of adoption," Charles then said without even a beat.

"Uh, do we have to?" Tony glanced at him warily.

"Steve tells me his case manager is coming by Sunday." Tony's eyes widened. "Poor little angel was rather distraught about it all day yesterday." Tony frowned at the thought. "It was bad enough I nearly called Dr. Banner in."

"Bruce?"

"Yes, you see, whenever Steve gets in one of his really bad fits it seems just about no one else can talk him back around. And I have a feeling Bruce will have my head for not calling him when he finds out Steve worked himself into a small fever over it." Tony's heart clenched and he looked at the hospital. "Oh, no, he's fine now. Well, the fever is broken anyhow and I'm sure Bruce being in today will help his spirits."

"Yeah, but isn't that bad for him? For, for his physical therapy?" Tony looked back at Charles, desperate for an answer.

"It can be, yes," Charles said. "But I don't think there's any concern here. It would have to take more than a _little_ distress to undo anything at this point. He's had worst asthma attacks than this," he tried to explain, but Tony was having a hard time being rational about it. "And I promise you he's in excellent hands with Dr. Banner."

"I know that," Tony spat before he could even process the defense. "I'm just worried is all."

"As I imagine Bruce will be for the rest of the day, maybe longer, in spite of any real need for it."

Tony wasn't sure how to respond to that. Or if he even wanted to. He was sure Charles was still being logical, but it didn't sit well with him. And as much as he hated the idea of Bruce worrying himself more than he already seemed inclined to do, he also liked him the more for it because it showed how much he cared.

"I don't think any of us will rest easy until Steve finds out what his case manager wants," Tony said with a frown.

"You don't really think Nick would send him away now do you?" Charles raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know what to think with that man," Tony admitted.

"He's not perfect perhaps," Charles agreed. "But I don't think he would be the Director if you didn't trust him now would he?"

"I've trusted him, sure," Tony shrugged, "but I'm starting to wonder if I've made a mistake. I've always known he was rough around the edges, but maybe he's not the man I think he is."

"He undoubtedly isn't," Charles replied and Tony furrowed his brow. Then Charles shook his head, patted him on the shoulder and said, "Tony, you may want to examine your reasons for distrusting him. And as for Steve's case manager, well, I wouldn't have told you if I didn't think it would be worth it for you to know at least on some level." He let his hand fall then. "Well, I've extended my break long enough. Good luck on whatever you decide. And good luck with Dr. Banner. He's a wonderful man and I think you're rather suited for each other." He started to walk away, but then stopped, and turned to look at him again. "Oh, by the way. Ms. Potts seems to be making inquiries regarding the Angel of Yinsen Memorial."

"Do you know who it is?" Tony asked, all other thoughts forgotten for a moment.

"I do," Charles answered. "If you want a bit of advice, my friend," he said and turned again, "the path of the righteous man is beset on all sides."

Tony furrowed his brow as Dr. Xavier walked away. What was that supposed to mean? Tony quickly decided Charles was officially the most unhelpful person on the planet, but at least he'd confirmed the angel's existence. And perhaps confirmed it was only a single person. Maybe even a man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Charles is here to bring the gratuitous and unrealistic (I hope tbh) sexual escapades trope to this Hospital fic lmao.  
> 2\. *hides* now that the first major hint has finally been given regarding the angel.


	12. Chapter 12

Part of Bruce still wanted to find someone else to take his shift. Part of him wanted to hurry back out to the parking lot and spend another day with Tony. Part of him already couldn't wait see him again. The other part told him it would be good for him to get back to focusing on his work. The other part told him he needed a little time away from Tony to make sure this wasn't just some very bad idea. The other part told him he was letting himself get attached far too quickly for anyone's good and that never ended well, either for himself or the other person involved.

Both voices warring in his mind needed to be silenced, however, in order for him to do his job and he was grateful for his well-practiced ability to find a Zen state. Bruce put on his coat and made his way to the children's wing, calling on that ability as he went. As he passed the first floor reception desk he noticed a plant that hadn't been there a few days before. It was a nice, fresh change since it had been several months since they'd had any plant on sitting there. Too often they were gifted with flowers that they couldn't keep because they weren't allergy-friendly. The plant on the desk now was one of the allergy-friendly plants they'd had in the past.

Bruce moved to one of the office spaces designated for him and his colleagues and began his administrative tasks for the day. He went over the reports of all of the newest patients admitted since he'd been there last. There was a boy who'd been rushed in two nights before after a poisonous spider bite. A quick look at his reports showed he would probably be okay for discharge the following morning. From there his focus turned to reviewing the labs and radiographic studies recently in.

With that done, his mind more focused than it had been at the start of the day, and the small - and rare - miracle of no pages to attend to during that time, Bruce left the office to begin seeing his patients. Due to one of the morning's reports Bruce moved first to Pietro Maximoff's room. The boy apparently had been moved from the emergency room to an inpatient room in the pediatric wing rather than the PICU since he'd be there for a while as he recovered prior to physical therapy. Bruce removed the chart from the door and overlooked it quickly.

"Dr. Banner."

Bruce jumped a little at an unexpected tenor behind him and spun around quickly to see Mr. Lensherr hovering behind him, tall and menacing. Bruce blinked a few times, willing all memories of earlier that morning from his head.

"Mr. Lensherr," he addressed him professionally and gestured for him to enter the room. "It looks here that Pietro is doing well," he said as he followed Lensherr into the room. "Of course, I'm sure Dr. Xavier has explained that physical therapy will be the real test."

"He has," Lensherr answered succinctly.

Bruce glanced up from the chart to assess the room. Pietro was still asleep, which was to be expected from the heavy painkillers and sedatives. There was another bed in the room not currently occupied by a patient, but it seemed to be found useful by Pietro's twin sister for the time being. He watched as Lensherr moved over to his daughter, stroked her hair and then fixed the blanket previously kicked off. Then he looked at Pietro with a heavy sigh before moving to sit down in a chair at a table that was set up with a chess game. Bruce furrowed his brow at the unusual way for him to take his mind off of things, but it was also probably a better alternative than stress-relief sex in the parking lot… And he _really_ needed to stop thinking about it. It wasn’t his business.

"Do you play?" Lensherr's question broke him from his thoughts and Bruce moved his eyes from the board to meet the other man's. He seemed amused by something even if his expression had barely moved a muscle.

"Sure," Bruce answered and then went back to looking at the charts as he moved to Pietro's bedside. He began checking the drips and vitals, jotting them down. "My skills are maybe a little out of practice, though. If you want a good match, Dr. Xavier is your man."

"Is he now?" Lensherr responded with amusement in his tone, almost a deep chuckle.

Bruce looked up slowly from the chart and turned his head in the man's direction. There was a small, almost condescending smirk on his lips and Bruce glanced down at the chess board. Right, of course.

"You're already aware of that fact," he said with a nod. "Well, beware his bishop," he warned.

"I'm aware of that too." Lensherr gave a small huff, somewhere between amused and frustrated. "I'm also aware you saw us in the parking lot," he added without segue.

Bruce choked on air and stammered, "Uh… I…" He then carefully readjusted Pietro's current position. "I think discretion is my best course of action here," he finally stated. "What I saw or didn't see has no bearing on anything at all. I'm only here to help your son get better. Which is why I'm a little concerned about the antibiotic we're using on his dressings," he moved on to a more professional topic.

"What kind of concern do you have?" Lensherr's face was immediately serious again, his mouth turning down into a frown so easily that it looked like it might be a common expression.

"It's nothing serious, but looking at his last immunology report, I'm a little worried his body is building up a fierce resistance to it already. I'll look into it, consult with a colleague if need be, and then we'll decide a course of action. We may just need to find a different antibiotic," he explained.

"So," Lensherr hesitated, "he's fine otherwise?"

"Well, we won't know anything more definitive until we change his dressing in a couple hours, but yes. I just want to be proactive regarding the antibiotic."

"Thank you, Dr. Banner," Lensherr replied. "For your care for my son." Bruce nodded and moved to leave. "And for your discretion."

"Of course," Bruce replied and then started to leave the room only to stop at the sound of Wanda Maximoff becoming fitful in her sleep. He turned and looked back to see Lensherr at his daughter's side. "Nightmares?"

"A couple since we've been here."

"As long as she's here, she may benefit from some of the activities we have. Dr. Xavier teaches a few classes she's welcome to sit in on. And if you haven't already considered it, she may benefit from talking to Dr. Xavier about her fears for her brother."

"I've tried to distract her a little the past couple of days," Lensherr said as he calmed his daughter. "But prying her away from Pietro is no easy task. Dr. Xavier says it's more than natural after a traumatic event, and even more so between twins. He said not to pressure her."

"Well, I'm not that kind of doctor," Bruce hedged, "but he's probably right. However, a little peer pressure might do the trick." Lensherr raised an eyebrow at him. "Once we start reducing Pietro's sedatives we're likely to see some PTSD with him as well. You may want to discuss options with Dr. Xavier on sessions involving the both of them. And she may even like to be the brave one and go first for his sake."

"Ah, I see what you mean." Lensherr nodded. "I'll discuss it with him."

Bruce nodded in return and then left the room to see Cassie Lang next. On his way to her room he passed Charles consulting with a nurse. For once the nurse seemed to be flirting with him, but the doctor wasn't flirting back. That was interesting. Charles made eye contact with him and mouthed the word 'sorry' to let him know he was aware of what he'd seen. Bruce shrugged. It still wasn't his business or place to judge; he just hoped it wouldn't make things awkward.

As Bruce turned down the hall Cassie was on he nearly ran into Jane. Unfazed she gave him a bright smile and looking over.

"That is a nice outfit," she said with a nod of approval.

"Oh, uh," Bruce had forgotten he was wearing Tony's clothes and he willed away an immature, or at least unreasonable, blush. "Thanks. It's new."

"Mmhmm," her tone was incredulous, "and Tony Stark wouldn't have anything to do with this snazzy new outfit now would he?"

"Not sure what you're implying," Bruce replied, attempting to shrug it off. "I can wear nice outfits without trying to impress people. That's something I'm perfectly capable of doing."

"True," she agreed. Then she spun him around by his shoulders before he could protest. He threw a confused glance over his shoulder as she lifted his doctor's coat up. "Uh _huh_. Knew it. Those pants have to be way more expensive than anything you would pay for clothes because I've never seen your butt look that good." Bruce's mouth fell open in surprise. She moved her eyes up from his ass to meet his stunned gaze. "So why are you wearing Tony Stark's clothes? Hmm?"

"Why are _you_ paying that much attention to my butt?" He thought it was a reasonable deflection. "You need to stop hanging out with Darcy."

"You're paying attention to his butt?" Thor suddenly joined them and glanced between him and his fiancé skeptically, although he didn't seem threatened in any way. For obvious reasons.

"Well, of course. Just look at it in these pants. I didn't even know Dr. Banner _had_ a butt," she teased, scrunching her nose.

Dr. Blake glanced down and that was more than enough for Bruce to spin back around quickly. He glared at Jane and then the other man.

Thor merely smiled and gave a nod as he said, "She's right. You have a very nice butt. I'm sure Mr. Stark will appreciate it when he sees it in those pants."

Bruce's eyebrows flew upward and he could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He looked at Jane who was biting down hard on her bottom lip to suppress the laughter so clearly building in her throat. And, of course, Thor meant it as genuinely encouraging so it was difficult to be good and annoyed with him. It would be like being annoyed with an overgrown puppy.

"I'm going to get back to my patients. No more comments about my butt. It's highly inappropriate. Pretty sure it's sexual harassment too. I swear, between the two of you and Charles I'm this close to filing a Title VII complaint." He pushed past them and down the hall, but he stopped when he felt their eyes on him. He looked back to see them both standing side by side, their heads cocked in a playful manner. He shook his head. "Already spoken for," he said and after turning again he indulged in a smile. Already spoken for? Yeah, he was probably too far gone to talk himself out of anything.

Bruce ignored that thought and finally made his way to Cassie Lang's room. After all that it had taken to get her the surgery she needed Bruce was particularly eager to check on her recovery. He was pleased to find the young girl's heart pumping in a strong and steady rhythm. The girl's mother was with her that morning and said even though Cassie was still easily tired from the procedure she could tell she was already getting back to being her happy and healthy daughter. Seeing that kind of teary relief in Cassie's mother's eyes made him thoroughly grateful they'd finally given her the operation she needed. It was the affirmation – not that he really needed one – that he'd been right to make the decision to pay for her surgery himself if no other fund came through. In spite of his best efforts, his thoughts then wandered to Tony and the SHIELD fund.

Close to an hour later Bruce found himself in the room now shared by Phil and Clint. The two boys were of course awake and Natasha was there too. His eyes were also drawn to the multiple plants in the room. Now that he thought of it there had been a plant in just about every room he'd visited, all of a similar allergy-friendly nature. It was a nice change and he was sure it would probably lift some of the patients' spirits.

"How is everyone doing this morning?" he asked the three.

"Aren't you supposed to be the one to tell us?" Natasha quipped. She then glanced at Clint before quickly grabbing a nearby notebook and writing something down. She handed it over to him and he read it.

"Still can't hear much," Clint said bluntly, looking at him.

Bruce crossed the room and wrote down the information for him that he had, including confirmation of his consultation with the otolaryngologist in a little less than two hours. Clint read the words with a sullen face and then shrugged. Bruce held in a sigh.

"What's my update, doc?" Natasha asked, taking the attention away from the troubled teen.

"Well, another two or three weeks like this last one," he told her with a smile, "and the hospital will be down one spy."

To his surprise she didn't seem happy with that prognosis. She looked down for a second. Then her eyes flickered not only to her brother, but to Clint as well. It was suddenly clear she wasn't in a hurry to leave. Her adopted sibling was here, as was Steve, and she probably thoroughly enjoyed spending many of her days lurking around the hospital. Now, she seemed to be gravitating toward Clint – and he had a feeling he to her as well since Natasha wasn't one to go out of her way to befriend someone not interested. Bruce decided they'd need to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn't try anything to keep herself there longer.

Bruce turned around, leaving the two teens to do whatever it is they'd been doing. He moved to the other side of the room where Phil was lounging in bed with a tablet. Bruce kept his face neutral, but he wanted to frown. Phil was usually one of the most active kids in the place. When he chose to lounge in bed it was because he was tired, although usually trying not to let on that he was tired. Bruce didn't like this sudden bout of tiredness in light of his last lab report.

"How are you feeling?" Bruce asked him honestly, keeping his voice low so as to maintain a sense of privacy. Phil glanced up at him, but didn't say anything. So Bruce prodded, "Is it just a little tiredness? Have you been overdoing it the past few days while I was gone? Partying while I was away?"

"Maybe," Phil answered, giving into a smile. Then he frowned and shrugged. "I guess a little more tired than usual. Just don’t feel like moving. And…" He frowned harder and looked at his tablet. "I have a headache."

"Headaches are normal, Phil," Bruce replied evenly, trained not to react. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Even if I'm weak at the same time?" Phil asked in a skeptical tone.

"Well, you're still in treatment," Bruce reasoned, for the boy and himself. "It's like, maybe like getting a headache when you already have the flu. It takes more out of you than someone who doesn't have the flu. Make sense?"

"I know you're just trying to make me feel better."

"I'm just trying to tell you there's no reason to get worried about this. Worry never helps. We'll look into it, run some more tests, and I'll talk to your dad. Until then, just keep resting. If you need or want anything—"

"I wish I could move to Steve's room," he said forlornly.

"Well," Bruce leaned in a little and said in a hushed, conspiratorial voice, "I'm not sure how your dad would feel about Natasha rooming with Clint." Phil's eyes went wide and he looked over at his sister and Clint. He then looked back and Bruce chuckled. "But we can discuss it with all parties involved." Anything that lifted his spirits might be a good thing.

"Thanks, Dr. Banner."

Bruce nodded at him and left. Moving down the hall he glanced at Steve's and Natasha's room out of force of habit and came to a sudden halt. He furrowed his brow and quickly grabbed Steve's chart as he entered the room.

Steve should be at school as it was Friday, one of the days he usually attended when he could. He'd had the asthma attack a couple days prior, sure, but it hadn't been severe enough for there to be any concern over his not going back again today. Yet there the boy was, lying in bed with his back facing the door.

Glancing at the chart showed him the possible problem right away. He hadn't seen it in the report as a pressing issue, but apparently Steve had been feverish for several hours the day before. Bruce's heart sped up and he tried to will it back down with a couple of deep breaths.

"Dr. Banner?" Steve heard his efforts and glanced over his shoulder before quickly getting up.

Bruce started to protest Steve's hasty movement, especially if Steve was in any way still weak from the fever, but before he could Steve was pressed into his stomach and crying. No breathing technique could prepare him for that. He could only stand there dumbfounded, letting Steve cry for a moment, as his mind raced along with his heart.

"Steve, look at me," he urged at last. Steve sniffled loud and looked up. "Steve, are you okay? What's wrong?"

Steve stepped back and rubbed at his eyes. He coughed and sniffled a few more times in an effort to stop his tears. He shrugged.

"Missed you I guess," the boy offered, like he was suddenly embarrassed and trying not confess.

"Steve, what happened yesterday?" Bruce pressed as patiently as he could while still demanding some kind of real answer. "Are you okay?" He set down the chart and pulled at his stethoscope. "Come on. If you don't want to answer, we're at least going to do a quick check up."

Steve sat down on the bed. Bruce went over to a locked cabinet in the room dedicated to storing tools, first aid items, and more. He pulled out the other items he needed and then pulled over a chair and sat so he could be level with Steve.

"You know," he said as he listened to Steve's heart and in between coaching Steve for when to breathe, not that he really needed it at this point, "I miss you when I'm not working too." It was something he'd never admitted out loud before, because it always seemed like an overstep of the doctor/patient relationship for him to wonder a little more about how Steve was doing when he was away from the hospital compared to the others.

"Really?" Steve's heart rate picked up, but his face fell almost immediately after. "Would... So would you miss me a lot if… if I wasn't here anymore?"

Bruce froze. That wasn't even remotely the response he'd expected and it was accompanied by a spike in Steve's heart rate that nearly matched Bruce's own. The sudden and rapid _thump-thump-thump_ in his ears was enough to break him sharply from his own reaction to focus on Steve.

"Breathe with me, Steve," Bruce said gently and breathed in deeply while he kept a monitor on Steve's heart. The pulse wasn't coming down. "Why would you ask that?" He posed the question without accusation, rather calm concern. "Are you afraid of something? No rush, but try to tell me. I want to help you. Do you think you're not getting better?"

Steve took a few more shuddering breaths in, but his heart still wasn't where it needed to be. He would need one of his pills so Bruce moved to get one for him and a glass of water.

"I… I think…" Steve paused. He then tried again, "I think I might be getting too better. Or maybe not better fast enough."

"Those are two very conflicting thoughts," Bruce said in an even tone as he gave the items to Steve. "Take your time to try and explain them." Steve gulped the water in the glass and nodded.

After a moment he said, "Ms. Hill is coming to see me tomorrow." Bruce kept his face neutral, but how he wouldn't know. "Maybe… Maybe because of my asthma attack the other day Nick is tired of me. Or… or maybe because I've gotten better he thinks someone else can take care of me now."

"Steve, you don't know that's the reason she's coming," Bruce tried to remain reasonable.

"Case workers never come to see you outside of scheduled visits for any other reason!" he snapped. But then he mumbled an apology for his outburst. "I'm being moved somewhere. I just know it. I don't want to leave."

Steve looked up at him, blue eyes and expression so much like that of a broken doll's that Bruce couldn't stand it. He sat down on the bed next to him and Steve wasted no time in wrapping his arms around his waist to cling to him.

"I know it's hard," Bruce said, swallowing his own emotion and doubt back down, "but you can't let this make you sick. You at least should wait to hear what Ms. Hill has to say. Maybe she's just checking on you to see how _you_ feel outside the schedule. She's visited you in the past, remember?"

"Just because money was involved," Steve muttered.

"Money she fought hard to get you," Bruce reminded in a patient tone.

Steve sighed and said, "I know." There was silence for a few moments and Bruce felt Steve starting to relax. At last Steve craned his neck upward. "But… If I do leave, will you miss me?"

The question was like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him. He barely had a chance to process it, let alone consider an answer when Natasha rushed in with a tablet.

"I've got just the thing to cheer you up, Steve," she said with a smile. It was an impish one and… unless it was Bruce's dizzy state playing tricks with his mind, it was aimed at him. "Look what Phil found on TMZ!" She held up the tablet and Bruce's eyes widened in sync with Steve jumping up out of the bed and rushing over to take it from her.

"Is this true?" Steve glanced up from the tablet with wide eyes. "You went on a date with Tony Stark?!"

"I don't know," Natasha said in a skeptical tone. "There aren't any paparazzi shots of them kissing. I don't think it was a real date. They were just hanging out."

Steve scrunched his face and looked up at her with a slight scowl that was just as surprising as everything else that had taken place so far that morning. He glanced away and his eyes landed on another plant. Suddenly his brain put two and two together. Tony had ordered them.

A smile touched his face and, looking back, he said, "It was a date."

"Score!" Steve cheered, causing Bruce to blink rapidly a few times. Then he and Natasha started talking about the article and asking him question after question, even though they didn't give him a chance to answer.

Honestly, he barely heard the questions anyhow. As he watched Steve's face shine with carefree happiness, so different from how he'd been only moments before, only one question echoed in Bruce's mind.

Would he miss Steve Rogers if he was sent away? It wasn't even a question. The real question was what would he do if it happened? He was afraid of the possible answers.


	13. Chapter 13

_The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides._

Tony chewed on his pen as he studied the words he'd written on the scrap piece of paper that now sat on his office desk. His face twitched every now and then as he ran over all the possible meanings through his head at a hundred miles an hour at least. The hand that didn't hold the pen to his mouth clenched and unclenched and shook and he pointed at nothing.

Nothing indeed. What did it have to do with an anonymous do-gooder? Or was Charles trying to say this do-gooder was a righteous man and Tony was the one causing him to be beset on all sides?

"Hey," Pepper interrupted at that moment. Tony sighed, his whole body deflating, and glanced at her as she came into the office. She sat down across from him and gave him a knowing smile. There was a twinkle in her eyes as she said, "So?"

Thoughts of angels, or righteous men in this particular case, vanished and, what was becoming a reflex now, a smile attempted to spread across his face. However, he managed to hold it back and raised an eyebrow in coy deflection.

"A needle pulling thread?"

"Oh come on," she booed. "I refuse to learn how your date went from the internet."

"It's on the internet already?" The other eyebrow went up. She gave a single nod. "I didn't notice any cameras. Damn it. I would have warned him." He made a note to text Bruce about it.

"I'm guessing he's smart enough to realize that was always a possibility," she said with a shrug. "But you probably should have warned him beforehand that it could happen. Now stop stalling. He obviously said yes. You obviously went on a date."

"Actually," Tony's lips finally regained control of the smile he'd been holding back, "it was more like two dates rolled into one." She quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head. "Yeah, we had the lunch that's probably all over the internet. Then we went for a drive and had dinner."

"Okay, it's written all over your face that so much more happened than a drive and dinner."

"Maybe, but do I look like a tabloid to you? My juicy secrets are my own." She crossed her arms and fixed him with _that look_. It was the look that had convinced him that she'd make an excellent co-CEO. It was the look that stared down people in a board room or elsewhere. He had an iron will, but he wasn't invincible when it came to that look. "Fine. We took a drive to my place. I gave him a tour – a clothed tour," he insisted when her eyebrow quirked again. "And then he made an absolutely spectacular dinner."

"He can cook too? A doctor who can cook…" She darted her eyes around. "I might need to cut Rhodey loose and steal him for myself." She laughed at her teasing joke, but then it morphed into a strange look geared at him no doubt because he couldn't stop smiling as he thought about Bruce. "Tony?"

"I'm crazy about him, Pep."

"Uh," she laughed again, "I think you were already crazy about him before."

"Fair point, so, crazi _er_ ," he corrected. "I know it was just one day, and well a few days with him at the hospital, but he's really something else. Yesterday and this morning just confirmed my hunch about him, about what there might be between us. I'm definitely pursuing this. I'd truly be crazy not to."

Pepper gave a soft smile and said, "I'm glad to hear it. You deserve to be happy too, Tony. There's more to life than just trying to—" She stopped abruptly and scrunched her face. "Wait, _this morning_?" Her eyes widened and mouth fell open slightly before giving a quiet chortle and shaking her head.

"Ah, it's… really not what you're thinking," Tony started to say, if only for Bruce's sake, but then his office phone rang. "Oh thank god," he said and hit speaker. "Tony Stark speaking."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Stark. This is Maria Hill. I'm Steve Rogers' case worker and it's my understanding you wished to speak to me."

"Yes!" Tony quickly grabbed the phone from the receiver and ignored the new studious look Pepper was giving him. "Yes, I called earlier. And, not to presume, but Maria Hill?" When he'd been given the name he'd thought it might just be a coincidence, but he recognized her voice.

"Yes," she said in an icy tone that wasn't really hopeful considering the circumstances. "It's me."

"Small world. I hope that doesn't immediately disqualify me."

"No," she said with a sigh. "But am I understanding this correctly? You're seeking to apply to adopt a child that's never been in your care?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds weird. But I got to know him at Yinsen Memorial. Amazing kid. I want to know what the process is, if it's even possible, for adoption and whatever it is I want to begin that process."

Pepper squeaked and he glanced at her to see her face reading with surprise. Meanwhile on the other end of the line Maria didn't say a word. He was left in limbo for what felt like an eternity until he couldn't take it anymore and was about to open his mouth to say something.

Of course, as if waiting deliberately so that he'd feel maximum discomfort, that's when she spoke saying, "I will give you my email address." He immediately pulled up his inbox and started a new email. "Submit a written request regarding the process and I will send you the information packet every interested party receives. It outlines the procedure, the steps it takes to adopt in the state of California. Two things up front, Mr. Stark. His current guardian will be made aware that an inquiry has been made. They may act accordingly and file a request for adoption as well. You are not to make your inquiry known to Steve. I will let him know there is someone interested and then once you've passed the initial interview, we can move forward with specifics in order to gauge his interest in being adopted by you. Understood?"

"Yes." Tony then quickly added, "But, ah, I..." He cleared his throat. "It's my understanding that when he's well enough he can have days out of the hospital. Even before considering this option I was going to ask if I could take him to a local fair or something else deemed appropriate by his physician. Is that... still okay? Do I need your approval?"

Another excruciating length of silence and then, "All activities and visits outside of the adoption process are still subject to his guardian's discretion." There seemed to be an underlying: lucky for you. "Any and all interaction you have had or will have with him outside of the adoption process will be scrutinized quite thoroughly, Mr. Stark. So if you have any intention of manipulating the situation—"

"Not my intention at all. I just want him to have a day out of that place is all. I want him to have some fun. If he's feeling up to it and it's approved," he added to make her aware he understood this wasn't about what _he_ wanted for Steve, but what Steve wanted for himself that Tony was willing to offer.

"Alright," she clipped. "Ready for the email address?"

"Yep." He input the email she gave him. "I'll submit that request by the end of the day," he then told her.

"I'll look for it and be in touch," she said evenly. "Have a good day."

He barely had a chance to return the sentiment before she hung up. There was obviously still some animosity on her end it seemed, but he was sure she would be professional about it. He hoped.

As he set the phone back down in its cradle it was impossible to miss Pepper's doe-eyed stare. He heaved a sigh and leaned back in his chair.

"I don't expect you to understand," he said with a shrug.

"Good because I don't," she responded in an earnest tone. She blinked several times. "I understand being attracted to Dr. Banner. I understand meeting someone clandestinely and going for it. I understand you wanting to date someone again. Those are all reasonable."

"But a kid isn't?" Tony bristled. "A kid is, what? A burden? A responsibility? Something I can't handle?"

"Burden? No. Responsibility? Yes." Pepper's voice was firm. "This isn't something you just casually look into one day on a whim, Tony. It's not a puppy you see in the window and decide to buy. It's a kid.

"Jeez, Pepper," he scowled, "I know that much. Give me a little credit."

He knew it was a lot for her to swallow. He was still trying to wrap his own mind around how strongly the idea had possessed him. He only knew the moment the possibility of Steve being sent away became a real one, his resolve cracked. The idea took hold. If Fury didn't want him, he did. But Charles' prompting had triggered another fact. He'd examined his new issues with Fury and it wasn't just that the bastard might send Steve away. He didn't see how Fury could possibly be that cruel in spite of his not having adopted Steve. No, there was a niggle in his mind that Fury had all of the power. He could send Steve away or... he could adopt him finally. Tony didn't want either scenario, but shockingly maybe he wanted the second one less. He'd be happy for Steve, he was certain, but he would be jealous of Fury. That was it. The niggle in his mind was jealousy. Maybe like that same jealous undertone he'd thought he'd heard from Bruce.

"Tony?" Tony came back from inside his head to see Pepper studying him. He gave a small sigh and shook his head.

"I won't pretend it makes any sense, Pep. It doesn't. I'm confused as hell. And, I'll admit it, maybe even a little scared too. I could be making a huge mistake here. Hell, I might not even be qualified to adopt. But..." He paused, glancing down. "But this feels bigger than me. And if I don't at least try, I know I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

"Oh." It came out like a gasp. "Then... okay. I guess you have to do what feels right. But..." She hesitated. "Does Dr. Banner know? That's a hell of a thing to spring on a new relationship."

"He doesn't," Tony admitted. "But I've given that some thought too. Not sure if I'll tell him next time we're together or... wait until less of a question mark. Maybe after the first interview."

"Well," Pepper shrugged, "I can't say I can give you any advice on which of those two options is better. I can see where both have their pros and cons." Tony nodded. "But good luck. So... not to change the subject... But, the path of the righteous man is beset on all sides?" She lifted one eyebrow.

"Oh, that." Finding out who the Angel was seemed insignificant compared to everything else. "Just something Charles said about the Angel we're looking for. A clue I guess. It's about as clear as Gandalf the Grey. They'd probably make excellent friends," he mused.

"Is it from the Bible?"

"Maybe," Tony answered, furrowing his brow. "But I'm not sure it's a direct quote."

"Well, you're not wrong about it being unclear." Pepper rolled her lips. "Unless it means we're looking for a religious person? Like a priest or a pastor maybe?"

"Huh. That's… not a bad starting point." Tony nodded. "I mean it only narrows it down to, how many religious officials in the city?" he added with a laugh.

"Yeah," she agreed with an earnest sigh. "What would be more helpful to us is a paper trail or pattern or something." Tony's eyes widened. "What?"

"There's a pattern."

"What?" she repeated, more surprised than confused.

"There's a pattern." He immediately began pulling up the reports of suspected charity cases that Pepper had acquired from accounting and investigations. "So these are all of the known cases where a patient was also an applicant of the SHIELD fund along with other funds." He looked at her for clarification. He'd only gone over the data once, but his recall was excellent so he knew he was right. But he didn't want to take any chances with this case.

"Right. But they weren't paid out by any of them. Also the bill wasn't covered by other means. Insurance or collections or even a personal check. Always cash like it just miraculously appeared. That's the pattern?" She furrowed her brow. "We already knew that."

"And that's the thing. We've been assuming that the Angel only swoops in and pays in these instances."

"Because you said—"

He interrupted with, "Because of what kids told me. But just because they noticed a pattern doesn't mean it's the only one there is. And if we can't find out who it is from one, maybe we can figure it out from the other."

"Okay," she didn't sound entirely convinced as she looked at the screens, "so what's the other pattern? What did we miss?"

"I'm assuming you didn't really look at the details of each record?" He pulled up three of the individual reports.

"Well, there wasn't much there. Most of it is redacted for legal reasons."

"Got that, but they didn’t redact the room number of the patients in question," he said with a big grin, the feeling of having solved a difficult equation pulsing through his veins. She scrunched her face and looked at the screens again, but then a light bulb practically flashed over her head. "Bingo. They're all the same."

"Oh my god. So you think if we pull up records for that room—"

"We'll probably see payments made in cash," he finished. "So the room is the key. Looks like I'll need to pay a visit to the Yinsen Memorial Children's Hospital."

"Let's be perfectly honest here," Pepper ribbed. "You were going to anyhow."

She definitely had him there. As long as that's where Bruce and Steve were, it would be pretty impossible to keep him away. Angel or no angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. While I've studied adoption laws quite a bit in my own state and did some minor research into California, please take all adoption procedures in this with a grain of salt. Seriously this story is about as realistic or accurate as Grey's Anatomy meets Annie in all respects okay.


	14. Chapter 14

Bruce finished the reports for the day and gave a long sigh. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. He briefly wondered if he was up to his dinner date with Tony, but the other man was likely already on his way to the hospital to pick him up, if he wasn't there already, and Bruce had taken public transport that morning since they'd planned it the evening before so it was too late to back out now. Well, Tony would probably understand and take him home, so it wasn't out of the question, but Bruce knew the real fact was he wasn't tired so much as his mind was in other places.

Specifically, his mind was in Steve's room where the boy was currently talking with his case worker. He'd told Steve not to worry about it, but that didn't mean he couldn't worry enough for the both of them and then some. He kept letting his mind wander down the paths of all the worst case scenarios. Scenarios where Steve wasn't there anymore. Scenarios where the next family pushed him out again. Scenarios where he relapsed. Scenarios where he never saw him again.

Bruce scrubbed a hand through his hair and then tucked his glasses into his pocket. He needed to stop thinking about it. He needed to stop jumping to the same conclusions Steve had. So he stood to his feet and left the office to wait for Tony. An evening with Tony would probably do him good so he wasn't going to back out.

He decided to finish the last few minutes of his shift in one of the rec rooms, but was surprised to find Steve's case manager there speaking with Dr. Blake as he played a board game with Phil. Bruce smiled at the latter because Dr. Blake loved to dote on Phil, but it was bittersweet because Phil was still unable to do much of anything strenuous and his dry cough had returned which was why the other doctor seemed to be paying extra attention to him.

Bruce glanced around the room to survey the other inhabitants. He saw Natasha and Clint engaged in arm wrestling, and it seemed to Bruce that Natasha had finally found someone more physically inclined like herself which was maybe a little bit of the reason they seemed to be becoming fast friends. In another part of the room was Mr. Lensherr's daughter who seemed to be relaxing at last; currently she was playing with Dr. Xavier's nephew whom he'd brought with him since he would be watching him for a couple of days. However, while Steve's case manager was there, there was no sign of Steve among all of the kids and families in the room.

"Dr. Banner." His confused perusal of the room was interrupted and Bruce brought his attention to the woman in front of him.

"Ms. Hill," he greeted her.

"I have to admit," she said after a slightly awkward pause, "I was surprised to see you of all people linked to the infamous Tony Stark."

"That makes two of us," Bruce replied evenly.

"Take it from someone who knew the man: Be careful. I know he's changed, but… Well, I'd still be careful. Steve is fond of you. And you've done a lot for him. I'd hate to see you get hurt."

Bruce wasn't sure how he felt about the unsolicited advice. It was unexpected to say the least. It really wasn't her business unless she was warning him on behalf of Steve.

"You know," Bruce followed that line, "Steve grew pretty fond of Mr. Stark while he was here."

"I'm aware," Hill said, glancing away for a moment. "And I'm keeping my eyes on things just in case."

"So that means my involvement with him by extension?"

"Something like that," she answered, but he could tell the 'something' probably entailed more than she was willing to divulge.

"So…" Bruce ventured after another awkward moment, "Is Steve…"

"He's talking with Nick right now," she interpreted his aborted question. "I thought I'd hang out here to give them some privacy before I speak with Steve again."

"Oh, I see." Bruce hoped his voice and expression were neutral. Bruce contemplated walking over to check on Clint or going elsewhere to wait for Tony, but then impulse overtook him and he said, fumbling as he did, "I... You know… This is random, but…" She looked at him, her expression curious in a professional way. For half a second he wondered what the hell he was doing, but then continued, "I've wondered a little at the process. You know, um, fostering. Or, adoption. I… Well, my cousin has told me I should look into it some time," he lied by omission, "but I keep telling her it doesn't really make sense for someone like me."

"Someone like you?" She raised an eyebrow and kept any judgment she might have on the matter from her voice.

"Well, that is… I'm single. I mean, I guess I'm not single. Not now," he backtracked. "But… for all intents and purposes…"

"You're unmarried," she assisted him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Precisely," he said with a nod. "And I'm, you know, not the richest man in the world and I have a small apartment. Obviously I work a lot as a doctor. I can't imagine any of that would look good on an application."

Hill studied him for a long moment before saying, "I won't lie to you, Dr. Banner. You'd be looking at a challenge and some potential necessary changes to be approved. Your living space would be evaluated, for example. Your work hours wouldn't pose a problem unless you didn't have reliable care. That would be examined during the interviews and scrutinized during the evaluations." He nodded in understanding. "But I've seen just as many in your position succeed as I've seen fail," she said after a pause.

"Really?"

"Really. And there's a reason why they succeeded where others failed. Those people weren't willing to give up without a fight. They knew they were a good candidate and went out of their way to prove it. That's not to say everyone who is a good candidate or really cares to have kids doesn't give up, at least until a later date, but we regularly see that a person in your position who goes into this realistically and is willing to do what it takes, even if it means suffering a few disappointments first, ends up being rewarded for that diligence as is the kid or kids that end up with him or her."

"So…" Bruce licked his dry lips. "It's not impossible. You just can't go into it haphazardly if you're really interested."

"You've got it." She looked him over. " _Are_ you interested?"

"Ah," Bruce stuttered, "I… It's maybe a little more complicated than that."

"It usually is," Ms. Hill replied in an even tone. "I won't presume to know what complications you're dealing with, but I will say the one I see the most among interested parties is anxiety. Fostering and adopting are two very big life steps and there is still a lot of stigma around it. And I won't lie. It's a daunting process. I find lack of knowledge is what shuts down a lot of otherwise capable candidates before they can really get started." Suddenly she moved across the room to where her briefcase sat on a chair. Bruce got the impression he should follow so he did. "How about I leave you with a list of resources that I recommend to every person even remotely interested." She opened it and rummaged through a few folders before pulling out a stapled printout of information. "It's a very comprehensive list," she said, handing him the information. "Everything from counseling to budget and living spaces to support forums. You'll have a pretty good idea of what you're getting yourself into. I tell interested individuals and couples that if they're still on the fence after giving all this information a serious going over then they're probably not ready to undertake this kind of responsibility."

For a fraction of a moment Bruce could only stare at her like a deer stricken dumb by headlights, but finally he managed to blink and look down at the packet. He wasn't sure what to think. In a strange way a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders only now to rest in his hands.

"Thank you," he said. "I'll definitely utilize this." Was that a lie? Was he just saying what was polite?

"I sincerely hope you do, Dr. Banner," she commented and he glanced up at her with slightly widened eyes. "And if you don't mind my speaking off the record," she added, "I think you'll find page four of particular value." Bruce furrowed his brow. "Some of the best resources we've found for parties interested in becoming a parent to kids with unique needs or sensitivities to consider."

Bruce's eyebrows shot back up in understanding. Before he could respond Tony came into the room. Bruce wasn't sure it was a conversation he wanted to continue while he was present and he wondered a little at that before deciding hypothetical fostering or adoption wasn’t something to bring up haphazardly either.

"Hey, fancy meeting you here," Tony said, and it took Bruce a moment before realizing it was directed at Hill. It took him a moment longer to recall the shared history Hill had alluded to. The case worker didn't seem overly pleased in seeing him.

"Here to see Dr. Banner?" Hill asked in lieu of salutation.

"Damn betcha," Tony answered that with a wide grin. Then he looked at Bruce. "So, I was thinking Indian take out and a movie at your place?"

"That sounds perfect," Bruce said with a boneless sigh; he was truly grateful for that relaxing suggestion compared to a night out on the town. "I can call my favorite Indian place near my apartment and we can pick it up on the way." He glanced at his watch. "Okay, so I'll just go sign out." He glanced at Ms. Hill. "It was nice talking with you," he said politely. "Tell Steve to take it easy for me."

"Is that your subtle way of telling me not to exhaust him?" she raised an eyebrow, but there was a hint of humor in her tone.

"Something like that," he answered with a rusty sounding chuckle as he moved to the door. "Thank you for understanding." With that he left and Tony, giving a quick 'see you around' to her, followed.

As they moved down the hall and turned to the next, the hall Steve's room was located in, they were greeted immediately by the sight of both him and Fury moving in their direction. Fury stopped in his tracks and stared at them both. Tony seemed to stop as well. Bruce on the other hand continued on since Steve was eagerly continuing toward them. He only stopped when Steve stopped in front of him and looked up at him with his usual bright smile. Apparently the meeting with Fury and Hill hadn't been some horrible turn of events after all?

"Hey, there's that happy face we were all missing around here," he teased him and Steve just smiled wider.

"Guess what!"

"What?" Bruce asked, genuinely eager to hear what had him happy again.

"Nick said Tony asked if he could take me out somewhere when I'm feeling up to it." Steve waved at the man in question then. "Hi, Tony!" He glanced between them. Then, just like a kid, tacked on a very different question: "Are you guys going on a date?"

Bruce chuckled and with a look at Tony said, "You asked that huh?"

"I did," Tony answered with a big smile. "Any place he's interested in that's appropriate."

"Oh, nice," Bruce's heart was twisting and thoughts racing with all the things he could say, but that was all he could manage, along with a wide smile of his own in light of Steve's excitement.

"I told him," Nick interjected, his voice seeming a little tired although Bruce knew it probably had more to do with Phil than anything else, "that I think it'd be good for him. But I'll only allow it if a nurse or doctor is able to go as well. I'll pay for the extra cost of course."

"There's really no need for that, Nick," Tony countered. Nick frowned.

"I was wondering…" Bruce realized Steve was looking up at him again. "Can you come?" Steve's eyes were wide and hopeful.

"I…" Bruce hadn't been expecting that question, but his mind supplied an immediate answer. "I'd really like that, Steve." Steve looked so excited that Bruce wondered if he shouldn't temper it with realism. He couldn't just make a promise without a caveat, not with his job. So he warned, "I'll have to put in a special request so that there's adequate coverage. You know how hectic it can get around here." Steve nodded, a little of his excitement falling and that made Bruce's decision for him. He knew he had the days and it wasn't as if he wanted to be paid for the task, unless it was the only way to get it approved, so he would do whatever he could to make it possible. "How about I take a look at the calendar and see what days would be most reasonable. And I'll talk to Dr. Blake or Dr. Xavier. I'm sure either of them would be more than happy to help if they can."

"Yes!" Steve cheered and hugged him. "It's going to be so much fun!" Then he moved to hug Tony. "Thanks for asking!"

"You're most certainly welcome, kiddo," Tony answered with a chuckle and then glanced at Bruce with a smile.

"So, _are_ you guys going on a date?" Steve asked as he stepped back again and looked between them.

"Hey, Steve." Maria Hill joined them. "I see you're done with Nick. Ready for the rest of our meeting?"

Bruce saw the way some of Steve's enthusiasm immediately dissipated and he looked hesitantly from her then back to him and Tony. Then he looked at Nick and then back again.

"Yeah," Bruce intervened, "Tony and I are going on a date tonight." Steve perked up again. "And I'm sure Tony won't mind if I tell the gossip hounds all about it tomorrow." Tony snorted in understanding as Steve snickered and ducked his head. "So you have a good night," he encouraged.

"You too," Steve said, looking at both of them again with his disarming smile before following Hill back into his room.

Bruce gave a small sigh and then nodded to Nick before walking on again, eager to clock out and get to the aforementioned date – maybe a little more now that it seemed things must not be so dire for Steve. He only stopped when he thought he heard Tony's breath hitch. He turned to see Tony stopped in front of the room Phil and Clint resided in. He was staring at it with a distant expression.

"Oh, that reminds me," Bruce though aloud. "Phil's in the rec room with Dr. Blake," he said to Nick, who seemed to be studying Tony. Then Tony turned his head to study Nick back. Bruce furrowed his brow, unsure of the exchange.

Before Bruce could question it further, Nick said, "Thank you, Dr. Banner. Have a good evening." Then he turned and walked down the hall the way he always did: with a menacing sort of stride.

Bruce considered bringing it up in the car, but decided against it. If it involved Phil somehow, he wouldn't be able to say much due to confidentiality. Whatever the exchange had been it really wasn't his business unless either man wanted to include him for some reason. So instead he ordered their dinner and then asked Tony about his day so he could tune in on that while he relaxed in the passenger seat. It was easy and companionable and eventually they managed to get their dinner and reach his humble apartment, Bruce calling it as such as they entered.

"You don't have anything to be embarrassed about, Bruce," Tony reassured him with humor in his voice. "One, I've already been here so it's not like some horrible blind side," he teased and Bruce chuckled. "Two, sure I'm used to opulence, but this is nice and cozy," he said as they set the take-out on the small island. Bruce was grateful he hadn't slacked on his Saturday night chores. "This is where you live," Tony continued, meeting his eyes across the island, "and that's what matters to me, not how much square space you have. I'm pretty sure this is normal. I'm the abnormal one with more square space than a – until recently," he offered a meaningful smile, "single man could possibly use."

"Well," Bruce ducked his head and smiled, "you do have your robots to think about." He glanced back up and saw that Tony seemed almost ready to preen over the playful comment. "It's not that I wouldn't mind something a little bigger," Bruce began conversationally as they divvied up plates. "And I suppose the old-fashioned part of me would prefer something a little more traditional." He shrugged.

"What? A white picket fence and rose garden?" Tony raised an assessing eyebrow.

"Maybe when I was younger," Bruce admitted with a snort. "And only because I wanted it for my mom's sake. Something she couldn't have, but deserved." Tony didn't know much about his family history save for that his parents were gone and his mother had been since he was a child. There was also, of course, the assumptions he knew Tony had gleaned from between the lines, but he had yet to press him. Bruce had a feeling it was because he wasn't particularly at ease with sharing in turn the details of what it had been like to be the Stark heir when the public wasn't watching.

"I suppose," he continued after a moment of collecting his thoughts, "a rose garden still wouldn't be too bad. The children really do seem to love the plants, by the way," he added with a smile before taking his plate and bypassing the small dinette for something more informal – the couch. "But I was thinking more along the lines of a big backyard with a tree sturdy enough for a tree house, or maybe a weeping willow. And definitely a porch or two. Maybe a wrap around. The rooms don't have to be big. The kitchen doesn't have to be brand new. It just all has to make sense, you know? It has to feel like home." He shrugged and looked up at Tony where he stood looking down at him on the couch, his expression unreadable.

"Because nothing has felt like home before?" Tony ventured, conviction in his voice. "At least, not for a long time?" Bruce's eyes widened and he swallowed hard before admitting to the truth with a small nod. Tony studied him for a long moment. "Well, you know what they say. Home is where the heart is." He gave a warm smile and then sat down beside him.

"Even when arrhythmia is involved?" Bruce couldn't resist the question.

"Especially then," Tony replied defiantly.

Bruce smiled and they settled into the couch, eating dinner and finding a movie on television. It wasn't until the movie was nearly over and their plates long discarded on the coffee table that Bruce really let himself think about how easy it felt, how quickly they'd moved into a comfortable sort of cuddling position or how they laughed and conversed and commentated on the film.

It felt… terrifying.

It was maybe more terrifying than the first time because it was the second time and that meant he was really doing this. He was really letting himself get close to Tony. He hadn't made his excuses or run for the hills. No. He wanted a third time. He wanted a fourth time. He wanted to figure this all out with Tony's help like he'd promised.

Bruce closed his eyes against the surge of longing that flared, already sending his heart fluttering just a little with it. He wanted Tony's lips against his. He wanted those skilled fingers setting his skin on fire. He wanted to feel anything and everything and never once with the imposition of his heart.

He let those thoughts merge into one very basic longing, let it tumble from his lips: "I want to remember how it feels." Tony shifted enough so that he could look at him in askance. "To be normal," Bruce said, searching his eyes. "I need to know if I can be normal again. I need it so badly."

If only he could learn to be normal again, then maybe he could give into this completely. Maybe he could give himself to more than just work. Maybe he could go to bed, take Tony with him, and delight rather than cower in the way the billionaire pulled him apart. Maybe he could let himself find the place his rapid-beating heart wanted to call home.

Maybe he could even be a father—

The thought formed and then vanished so quickly that Bruce almost missed it, but he didn't. How could he? Part of the interruption was Tony touching him tenderly and looking at him like he was just as terrified as Bruce felt; it was an understated expression, but Bruce certainly recognized it.

_Then we'll figure it out together._

Clarity finally rang through Bruce's mind. It was more than a promise to help him, it was Tony's invitation to Bruce to help him too. Tony had said he wanted to give them a chance in spite of their conditions. Tony's heart was a present thing in his mind and yet he'd laid it in Bruce's hands to lead them at a pace _he_ was comfortable with, Tony willing to follow – to _trust_.

"Do…" Bruce swallowed hard against his nerves. God, he had to ask, _had to_. He didn't want to lose the _safe normal home_ feeling the other man inspired when he focused on Tony's faith rather than his own doubts. And Tony was trusting him to give cues as to where he wanted this to go so he had to at least try. "Do you, uh, maybe want to spend the night?"

Tony's eyes widened and one of his blinding smiles spread across his face before he said, "Do I ever." His eyes were searching him, maybe for some other kind of cue as to what Bruce wanted this to be.

"I… I can't… promise—" Tony interrupted his hesitance with a gentle kiss. Bruce melted into it.

"I wasn't expecting you to," Tony told him when they broke apart. "I wasn't expecting anything. I was just hoping—"

"You should maybe know," Bruce indulged, cutting him off before he could finish that thought with something Bruce didn't have the heart – a pun he was sure Tony would find amusing – to hear, "it's not for any lack of wanting to." Tony lifted one eyebrow and Bruce sighed. "I _really_ want to."

Tony surged forward and kissed him again, Bruce pushing into it with the same urgency he felt in Tony's lips. The kiss echoed Bruce's want. Tony wanted him too, not that he'd had any true doubt left on that point – even if he still didn't quite understand the why regardless of what Tony had told him. Could it really be possible Tony got the same feeling of something normal, something safe, something like home when they kissed?

Bruce broke apart for the air he needed to frequently intake to keep his pulse where he wanted. Tony pressed his face into Bruce's temple and breathed deeply as well. Bruce closed his eyes, relishing the closeness and matching the deep rise and fall of Tony's chest.

"I want that too," Tony whispered. Then he punctuated his declaration with a very serious, "Eventually. Tonight, I'm just hoping that the offer to bunk over implies you trust me to be in the same bed."

Bruce pulled back and twisted a little so he could look at Tony with all of the incredulity that he felt. That's what Tony had been on the verge of saying before he interrupted? That was the further detail about his offer he'd been trying to search out? Something so innocent as… Bruce was suddenly struck by how thoroughly Tony meant it that Bruce was calling the shots.

He… wasn't sure he wanted _that_ much power. He wanted some of the easy-going give and take. He maybe wanted Tony to assume _some_ things. After all, it wasn't like they hadn't already slept together in that sense.

Not to mention Bruce was fairly certain it was Tony's forward, eccentric in some cases, nature that had swept him off his feet in the first place. Tony was the kind of man who had no problem flirting with a stranger across a room or inserting himself in the affairs of a children's hospital or coming to his apartment because he just couldn't wait any longer to pursue a relationship with him. Bruce definitely didn't want the billionaire to lose any of that sort of peacock strut in favor of walking on eggshells around him.

Maybe… Maybe he even wanted a little pushing, needed it to get him out of his own head; he wasn't sure since he was definitely still trying to figure it out, but it was as good a working theory as any. He hadn't really let anyone challenge him in a long time.

"Well," Bruce bottled up all of those straightforward thoughts and went for humor, "unless you have a thing for sleeping on couches, I think the bed would probably be more comfortable."

A look of comprehension passed through Tony's eyes, like he had somehow read Bruce's thoughts anyhow, but he only said in a teasing tone, "I think I have a thing for sleeping anywhere you are."

Warmth filled him and Bruce confirmed with a hint of teasing in his own tone, "Then the bed it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Charles' nephew being Kurt (Nightcrawler), as a shout out to Wanda and Kurt's relationship in Earth-2182.   
> 2\. This chapter gave me so much hell dialogue wise so I finally just gave up on it rather than burning it all with fire. I'm sorry if it shows.


	15. Chapter 15

"It looks like your heart is doing everything we want it to," Dr. Foster concluded.

"Well, that's a relief," Tony said with a chuckle as he finished buttoning his dress shirt, having come straight there from a meeting. "Maybe now my boyfriend won't do that whole quietly judgmental thing when I tell him how much caffeine and sodium I've consumed."

"Oh, the one where you ask him 'what'?" Dr. Foster asked. "And then—"

"And then he just says, 'nothing' like he actually thinks we don't know what he was thinking," Darcy chimed in from the door and they both turned to look at her.

"That's the one," Tony answered. "So I'm assuming this won't let me off the hook. I’m just going to have to get used to it?"

"He's done that for as long as I've known him, so, yes," Dr. Foster answered, sparing a glance and a smile back at him before focusing on the nurse again. "Is there something you needed?"

"I'm going to need you to double check some of your scripts that…" Darcy glanced at him, "uh, may or may not have been misread by a couple of our student nurses." Tony's eyes widened, not sure he liked the sound of that even if he wasn't entirely certain what she meant or the ramifications. Clearly Dr. Foster didn't like it either as her look sharpened. "Nothing major thank Odin, but I've taken the necessary action."

"Alright." The doctor sighed and shook her head. She then looked at Tony and her smiled returned. "Okay, you're good to go. I want to see you again in a month for a follow-up. And tell that boyfriend of yours to lighten up a bit and stop worrying so much about your heart. It's strong."

"Thanks," Tony said with a fond smirk, "but it's fine. I'm pretty inclined to trust him with it, worry and all."

"Awwww!" Darcy toned as he and Dr. Foster moved to the door and then joined her in the hall. Tony glanced over to the room across the hall with narrowed eyes. "This isn’t fair."

"What’s not fair?" Dr. Foster asked her.

"Well, you have Dr. Blake. Dr. Banner gets a famous rich guy." Tony blinked and he looked back at the nurse. "And I’m ninety-five percent sure that Charles has something going on with that menacing Greek god, Lensherr. Chess is a euphemism right? Or is that checkers…"

"You know, I don’t think Lensherr is a Greek name," Tony commented. Sure, Lensherr was attractive, objectively speaking of course, but an Adonis might be pushing it.

"Not the point," Darcy replied. Then with a small whine, "I want a cute hospital romance too."

"Alright, Darcy," Dr. Foster said with a laugh and shake of her head. "Let's go take care of those scripts. And I thought you said Ian was definitely trying to flirt with you," she added as they walked down the hall.

"Trying and failing!"

Tony watched them go with slight amusement until they disappeared around a corner. Then he glanced back at the room adjacent the one he'd been in. He moved over to the door and leaned against the frame, crossing his arms and chuckling.

"You can come out now, master spy," he said to the redhead in the corner. She gave him a skeptical look, but then straightened her back and walked past him into the hall in an unbothered manner. That amused him more. "Collecting information on me? Don't tell me you're already trying to break me and Dr. Banner up," he teased as he followed her.

"Just collecting information," she answered with a shrug. "What I do with it is irrelevant. Besides, he has a Google-enabled device. Not sure there's much more information I could get that he isn't capable of finding himself." Tony winced at the thought of her having done a thorough Google character-study on him. He was about to say something like 'you can't trust everything on the internet' when she suddenly whipped around and gave him a deadly look. For a young teenager it was probably more intimidating than it had any right being. He inched his head back slightly from where she looked up at him. "Unless I caught you cheating on him," she said very evenly, her eyes narrow and studying him. "If I caught you cheating on him I would certainly do _something_ with that information." Tony's eyebrows moved upward at her icy tone. "Something you wouldn't enjoy."

"Are you threatening me?"

"If I were I'd also tell you I know the ins and outs of this hospital and how to use the tools here to whatever end I choose."

"Are—" Tony's eyes widened. "Are you okay, kid? Should I let your dad know you're at risk here?" Tony was mostly teasing. Mostly.

"Like he would believe you," she said with a snort.

"That's… probably true," Tony conceded. "But you don't have to worry about catching me cheating with anyone. Believe it or not," he moved past her, refusing to let her intimidate him a second further, "you kids aren't the only ones capable of being crazy for Dr. Banner." He glanced down at her when she came up alongside him. "And I am. I'm not perfect, but I'm not about to do that to him."

"Good," she replied. "Because Steve's not the only one who'd be pretty upset if he got hurt somehow."

"I realize that. I don't think Dr. Banner does though," he said in a considering tone and Natasha snorted as if in agreement. Tony stopped at an elevator and pressed the up button. When the doors slid open he got on and Natasha followed suit. Inside he selected the floor that would take them to the upper lobby of the children's hospital.

"You know," Natasha said once the doors closed them in, "Dr. Banner's not the only one you'll have me to deal with if he gets hurt." Tony's eyes flicked over to her. She was staring at the wall of the elevator, jaw set. "Steve might be pretty stubborn about the technicalities," she said, "but he's still practically a brother to me. Just because I've had Phil longer doesn't mean I wouldn't fight for Steve too."

Tony blinked several times and she turned her head slightly to look at him, a knowing beyond her years in her eyes. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't stopped to consider how his wanting to adopt Steve might affect Natasha and Phil. Would he be the one breaking up their little family if it turned out – as seemed to be the case – that Nick had no intentions of sending Steve away?

"Do you…" The doors slid open and he looked tentatively into the hall before sighing and holding out a hand for her to go first. Once they were in the hall she turned and looked at him expectantly. "Do you wish Steve _was_ your brother? You know, technically speaking?"

She shrugged and said, "Sure. If that's what he wants, then I'm okay with it."

"I asked what _you_ want," he pressed. "You and Phil."

She ducked her head, studying the floor. He waited patiently for her to continue.

"I don't know. It's… not that simple." She looked back at him. "Technicalities are just technicalities for some of us who've been in the system even a little bit. I was long enough to remember the feeling. Before Nick got me. Phil," she shrugged, "he doesn't really remember. He was three when Nick adopted him. During his first…" she bit her lip and looked away. "His first scare," she said vaguely and Tony understood she meant his first battle with his cancer. "A year or so into Phil's chemo at another hospital, I was the girl with a bad kidney they ended up putting in the same room with him." She pursed her lips tight. "I was in an all-girls home then. My foster mom at the time, if you can even call her that," she added bitterly, "never really came unless it was necessary. Said she was busy with the other girls. It was fine though. I didn't really like it at that home. Or her. It was a welcome relief." Tony frowned. He'd been doing a lot of research into the system and the horror stories of belligerent foster guardians were numerous. "But Nick," she smiled, "he started paying attention to me during his extensive visits with Phil. He'd talk to me, play games with me. And Phil seemed to like me. Maybe because I was there with him when Nick couldn't be. I guess I liked him too since I wanted to keep an eye out for him."

"And the rest is history?" Tony asked gently.

"A little more complicated than that, but yeah. Nick didn't adopt me right away. He was my foster dad for almost two years. But that was fine. Like I said, I didn't need the technicality and I told him that. I was just glad to have him for however long it lasted. But then again I never had a family. I was in and out of large homes. It was always pretty impersonal."

"Not like Steve," Tony finally guessed her meaning.

"Some of us want the technicalities," she confirmed. "Either because they had small homes where they thought the people really wanted to adopt them or because they remember their biological families. And sometimes just because it's their dream," she added with a shrug. "You know, the orphans that dream about having a family? We're not all realistic I guess."

"So, for you, it doesn't matter," Tony stated slowly after a quiet moment of parsing her words. A few people passed by them and so Tony decided they should probably stop loitering. "Steve's your brother no matter what," he gathered as they continued their trek.

"Yeah, but…" She hesitated, which seemed a little out of character for the outgoing girl. "Look, Steve told me Ms. Hill has gotten some requests from people about adopting him. I didn't tell him, but I'm not stupid. I know it's you."

"And if it is, does that bother you?" Tony asked outright. "Because I don't want to break up your family, Natasha. I don't want to take him away from you and Phil." She paused again in the lobby and he followed suit.

"He'd still be like my brother," she said in a considering tone. "I don't think that would change. And the thing about it is I just want him to be happy, you know? You wouldn't keep him from ever seeing us, would you?"

"No, of course not."

"You'd take care of him. And you're rich enough to give him everything he could ask for," she added, but he didn't take the materialistic evaluation too personally. "I don't think I'd be mad as long as he's okay. Realistically." Tony nodded, still a little unsure. "Phil on the other hand. He might be torn. He's always been torn on the technicality," she said as she started walking again. Tony caught up in two quick strides.

"That so?"

" _Obviously_ ," she said, a lilt in her voice.

It took him a second, but then he said, "Oh. Oh, you mean because he's pretty, uh," he searched for an appropriate word, "attached to Steve?" She snorted and tilted her head sideways and up at him to roll her eyes.

"His little crush on him might be more disturbing if they were legally brothers."

"In his defense, it might not be a literal crush," Tony pointed out. It probably wasn't fair to assume it was anything beyond loving Steve like an older brother.

"Maybe," she conceded, but she didn't sound like she believed him. "But either way," she whipped in front of him again giving him another menacing look, "if you hurt Steve somehow it would kill Phil. And then, then I would _definitely_ kill you."

Tony threw up his hands in surrender. She nodded and that seemed to be the end of it. Even if she'd had more to say it would have been the end of it he realized when she stopped in the doorway of Phil's room with a physical flinch. She seemed frozen, not wanting to go in. Tony furrowed his brow and cautiously moved to look over her shoulder. His heart fell as he watched the scene quietly for a few moments.

Phil was asleep on his bed, but it was a fitful sleep at best. The little boy looked more fragile than when Tony had first met him as his unconscious coughing made his whole body spasm. In the bed beside Phil's Clint was laying on his side watching the boy's condition with a hawk-like focus. But Tony's own eyes went to the boy sat gently at the foot of Phil's bed, form bent over his sketchpad. Steve's brow was set in a distressed furrow and lips tight against emotion and over his shoulder as he came closer Tony saw that he was sketching Phil as he slept, his eyes darting towards him and hand pausing whenever another really bad coughing fit took over.

"Should I call a nurse?" Tony asked in a hushed tone. Steve looked up at him, his eyes so sad that Tony couldn't stand to look at them. So he placed a hand on Steve's shoulder and gave it what he hoped was a comforting squeeze and then glanced at Natasha for direction, the girl having gone to sit at the foot of Clint's bed.

"The medicine's wearing off," Natasha said, sparing only a quick glance at her brother who she seemed unable to look at in this state. "The nurse should be back around soon to give him some more." Then she looked at Steve. "Did dad leave?" Tony's eyes widened slightly at hearing her call him dad instead of Nick, but he could understand given the vulnerable state she was in.

"He…" Steve seemed hesitant for some reason. "No, Nick went downstairs. Said we could join him if we wanted."

"Downstairs?" Tony queried.

"The basement," Steve answered, looking up at him again.

"Oh." He looked around at the scene and debated with himself. "I think I'll go talk to him."

Clint didn't make any kind of response, although Tony knew from Bruce he had some temporary aids. Natasha just hitched a shoulder. Steve looked back and forth between him and Phil.

"That's a great likeness of him," Tony said, giving his shoulder another squeeze. "I'm sure he'll love it when he wakes up later." Steve looked down at the drawing. "I'll be back, okay?"

"Okay," he mumbled.

Tony gave one last look at the room for the time being before leaving it and making his way back to the elevators. On his way down to the basement he couldn't help recall the debate that had gone into that part of Yinsen Memorial. While Tony wasn't really one to quibble over religion with people, so long as it wasn't of an extremist nature that hurt people within and without, he realized it was a hell of a lot more nuanced than live and let live.

When the question of a hospital chapel had come up, he'd turned to the supervising board of doctors for a consensus and they had all had very different thoughts on the matter. Some had argued that in this day and age it was just too old fashioned to believe people wanted any kind of religious connotation in a public building, especially one seeking to be modern and forward-thinking. If people wanted religious comfort, they had places they could go or outside people they could bring in for a visit. Some had argued that they should take the approach of some other hospitals and include a neutral space, set apart and quiet for the purpose of getting away and reflecting, meditating, or praying. Anyone could go into these rooms and seek whatever it was that might give them peace. Others still had argued that spirituality was a major part of the human experience especially in times of suffering and impersonal quiet spaces or no space at all would be removing a key aspect of healing for many people. Surprisingly Charles, though not at all religious, had argued in that vein. He had argued that religion, or the lack thereof, was a basic human right and it was critical each patient be nurtured the way he or she needed to the best of their ability if that was truly the crux of Tony's vision for the facility.

In the end they'd adopted a coexist philosophy and the basement floor became a mix of both the impersonal rooms and some more traditional offerings of varying religions. The space became less about being a chapel and more about being an intersectional community with volunteer staff dedicated to helping patients and their families cope on a spiritual level in ways such as connecting them with local establishments of their denomination or reaching out on their behalf to spiritual leaders to bring them in.

Overall, Tony was pleased with the compromise. Most people looking for comfort were able to find something, overriding the extreme voices on both sides mad about the inclusion of all faiths or any faith at all.  Of course, that didn't mean Tony had ever counted on visiting the space personally and certainly not in search of Nick Fury. But he found him just the same, sitting in the pew of one of the traditionalist Christian chapels, leaning forward so his arms rested tiredly on the pew in front of him.

"That path of the righteous man is beset on all sides," Tony said by way of announcing himself.

Nick straightened his head, but didn't turn to look at him when he responded, "By the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children."

The words permeated the air and then there was silence for a moment.

"Is that from the Bible?" Tony asked when he broke it. "Because I don't recall that."

"And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee."

"Really don't think that's—" Tony started, but Nick interrupted.

"There have been a lot of things in my life I regret, Stark," Nick ignored his point. "You might know some about where I come from, but you don't know the half of it. I did things that had to be done and then other things were done because it was the easy way out." Tony hated how Fury talked around the issue, but he also understood it. A lot of what he'd done as a special ops was probably still the kind of secret that had secrets, and then those secrets probably had secrets, but Tony was sure he probably had the same blood on his hands as his own father had… that he himself had… "Then Phil dropped into my life and I never looked back. It was like having both my eyes again. I realized there wasn't a damn thing I wouldn't do for him."

"I think I understand," Tony stated, but his confidence wavered.

"Yeah, I think you might," Nick said. "So I think you can imagine what it might be like to see your son relapse a second time. What it's like to beg God not to let anything happen just because you deserve to lose everything." That statement was like a knife to Tony's stomach and he suddenly wished he wasn't having this conversation. He _could_ imagine it. God, could he.

"So you've been paying for other kids when they need it? Pulling strings as the Director to try and balance your ledger?" Tony tried hard to keep his voice a neutral pondering rather than an accusation.

Nick finally turned his head to look at him. He held that look, a look that seemed as though he were studying Tony and himself at the same time, for long enough that Tony began to grow somewhat uncomfortable in the silence.

"There was a kid," Nick started in a solemn tone and looked away again. "That kid was on the waiting list for a SHIELD fund. Or likewise. It was the early days of the hospital when we didn't have as many charitable partners. Before we realized the SHIELD fund alone wouldn't be enough." Tony furrowed his brow, wondering where he was going with this and cursing himself a little for not paying as much attention to the hospital as he should have been. "The kid was still getting medical treatment, of course. The parents didn't care if they had to face legal trouble for not being able to pay, their kid was going to get better."

"They didn't get better," Tony guessed, closing his eyes tight. His stomach knotted. He could hear Bruce's voice in his head. _People_ _don't always get better. And the sooner you accept that, the better off you are in this field._ He still didn't want to accept that.

"And I had to explain to a brokenhearted seven-year-old why there was nothing that could have been done for his roommate." Tony's eyes flew open and he saw that Nick was looking at him again. "But the thing about kids, you can't always make them rationalize reality with the things that might have been. Not when you can say if only."

"If only the kid had got the funding?"

"If only," Nick repeated by way of confirmation. "And, you know, how the hell was I supposed to tell a kid, all my kids, that just because they don't have to worry about the money it doesn't mean they might not actually get better? How was I supposed to burden them with that?"

"Don't they already realize it?" Tony asked.

"Sure. Deep down. But they don't want to think about it. Not even Natasha," he said with a bitter sort of fond smile in regards to his interesting daughter. Tony understood. He'd seen her crumple in the face of reality up in Phil's room. No matter her realistic outlook, she didn't want to believe the worst could happen either. "So they latch onto whatever security they can. And this place," Nick glanced around with his eye and sighed, "it's done a lot in that respect. Between what we offer, the design, the staff we hire, it's easy for the kids to think of it a little like some Neverland where the future can't touch them, you know? And money is like that for kids. They catch on real quick when parents are worried about money. They catch on real quick when they overhear how expensive a hassle being in the hospital can be. So, naturally, you take away that hassle and you take away some of the immediate worry."

"Like Steve's worry that if the SHIELD fund got taken away you'd send him away," Tony shared and Nick went tense for a moment. "So, you're the angel. You decided it to keep history from repeating itself. That's why you cover the cost of every kid that ends up in Phil's room not already approved for the fund."

"Yeah, that's why I do it. But I'm not an angel and you know it. I'm more like his ambassador. Phil believes in every single person he meets. He's the angel. The reason why I have to try my damned best." Nick gave a long sigh and stood to his feet. "But I've failed him too many times anyway. You're right, Stark. Deep down I do hope that if I do my best by Phil it'll balance the ledger." He scowled, more sadness than anger. "And now he's sick again. And I can't do a damn thing, but sit here like a blind man until the doctors can figure out how to help him." He shook his head and looked down. When he looked up again Tony saw the genuine weariness hiding just beneath the surface, the vulnerability and uncertainty the man had always tried to mask. "You were right about a lot of things."

"Nick, this isn't your fault," Tony tried. Nick gave a derisive snort and turned his back, hands in fists against his waist.

"Isn't it?" he asked after a moment. "Two years ago I deeply considered asking Steve if he wanted to be tied down to me." Tony recalled his having mentioned considering it. "I knew Phil and Natasha would be okay with it. And I care about him, I do." Nick looked down. "But he's… he's not like the other two. He felt like a puzzle I just couldn't solve, couldn't get close to. I tried catering to him. I tried reassuring him. I tried spending time with him. And when none of it felt like it was going anywhere, I guess I took it personally. So instead of swallowing my pride and having that conversation you talked about, Stark, I was selfish. I took the easy way out. Told myself he could come to me when he was ready and it would be best for the both of us. Told myself it would take the pressure off and he could go on blossoming here." He snorted again. "He could go on blossoming under the care of the adult he connected with almost instantly. I don't know. Maybe that's my fault too."

Tony's eyes widened in realization and his thoughts started racing as fast as Bruce's heart. Bruce. That's who they were talking about now.

Nick turned back around and said, "But I behaved poorly. I let that boy down. Wouldn't just get over myself and ask him to be my son. Now. Now maybe I'll lose both of them. Maybe I have all of it coming."

"Stop," Tony demanded. He was bristling and the sick feeling in his stomach was doubled at least. "Just _stop_." Nick glared at him. "Those little boys aren't going through this because of you. God, and people say I'm a narcissist? I know you want to punish yourself for what's happening to Phil, but that's just another easy way out. Yeah, you might not have done right by Steve. You know my feelings on that already, but hey. My feelings aren't much nobler than yours. The jealousy? Uncertainty? Wondering if you're just being selfish? I get that now. I don't know if I believe I could do right by him either. And that fucking scares me because I don't want to hurt that kid, but damn it we all know I probably would. _Damn it_ you know what kind of person _I_ am!" he shouted. "But he's not sick because of me. And Phil's not sick because of you. None of these kids are sick because of what we've done. They're sick because this world is a pretty shitty place. We have modern science at our disposal and we still can't even find a stable cure for cancer. We can't even cure the common cold. And that's not even getting into the corruption that you and I both know damn well exists at every level in our country. They're sick because we can't wave a wand and wipe out disease."

The chapel went quiet again and Tony practically deflated, like a balloon having let out the last bit of its air. He sighed and brought his hand to his forehead, rubbing it a few times before scrubbing it down his face. Nick seemed unwilling or unable to respond.

"Look, I'm sorry. I… I'm not trying to tell you how to feel. I'm the last person who gets to say don't blame yourself when I probably have a whole host of demons baying for my blood. Demons I created. But you haven't lost him yet," Tony pointed out. "You don’t have to resign yourself to it. Because if you do then what's to stop him from resigning himself to it too?"

"I'm not resigned to it," Nick countered sharply. "I'll move heaven and earth if I have to before I resign myself."

"Good. Then stop focusing on how your actions made this inevitable and go move heaven and earth. Tell me what to do and I'll help. Forget the SHIELD fund, I'll pay for his treatment anywhere. We'll call in any number of specialists we need. You don't have to go through this alone."

There was another long moment of silence, Nick looking at him with an unreadable expression. At last he gave a small nod and thin smile. Tony returned it.

Then, tentatively, Tony added, "You haven't lost either of them, you know that right?"

"There you're wrong," Nick replied. "After our conversation last week I gave it a lot of thought and realized you had a point and if you saw it, well, I couldn't just go on pretending it wasn't true. So I started the adoption process."

"That's why Maria was here," Tony deduced.

"I finally sat down and talked to him about it. But the damage is done. He has to think about it, not that I wouldn't want him to anyway, but… In light of other interested parties that have yet to be named," Nick drawled and looked at him pointedly to let him know he knew, "he's willing to wait it out a little. See what his options are. He's pretty damn hopeful about it."

"I'm sorry," Tony said. "If I hadn't looked into it maybe… Maybe he would have said yes. I think you're good for him, Nick. I don't want to break up your family. I'm sorry. I can withdraw—"

"And make him feel like he was already rejected?" Tony winced. "No, it's not your doing. It's mine. And it lets me know if he didn't have any reason not to say yes, well, it'd still be bumpy because I don't have his trust. I don't think adopting him is going to be the easy fix it might have been at the onset." He shook his head. "Look, I just want that kid to be happy. With me, with you, with someone else. It's got to be what's best for him and would make him happy. At this point, there's not much more I can do than to let him know I mean it when I say I'd be honored to adopt him and then let him make the decision with Maria's help." Tony nodded, conceding to his point. After an awkward moment, Nick added, "And I don't expect you to do any less, Tony."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I definitely didn't intend to make the entirety of Nick as the one paying for sick kids a Pulp Fiction reference, so I hope it didn't come across that way. I was intending to utilize Nick's struggle in the MCU with wanting to protect the Earth, and being mysterious, and then his using the Pulp Ficition reference on his tombstone in TWS.  
> 2\. At the same time wanted to shout out to Nick's and Phil's canon relationship, e.g. Fury acting like Phil is his conscience and an amazing person that he can't lose (because obviously he is) by having Nick insist that while he's the one who pulls the strings/pays as the Director it's Phil acting as his guiding light that causes it. Thus, Phil is kind of also the angel. (Hint hint there have been hints to the greater theme of who the angel is throughout the story, and there may be even more to come, but that's all I'll say.)


	16. Chapter 16

"Would you look at that? We've all arrived safely at our destination." Tony looked at Bruce, feigning an expression of shock as he put the car into park at a museum they were taking Steve to. 

"Har, har," Bruce replied dryly. Earlier that morning there'd been some debate on whose car to drive, Bruce worrying about the smog and wind being a little too much for Steve's asthma if they took Tony's, and debate on _who_ should drive, Bruce poking fun at Tony's aggressive driving being less than ideal with a kid on board and Tony in turn poking fun at Bruce acting like a mother-hen. They'd eventually settled on Bruce's car and Tony driving.

"I think you ran a couple of red lights though," Steve pointed out and Bruce snorted at the way Tony's expression turned to genuine shock.

"I don't think I did," Tony countered as they got out of the car.

"No, you did," Steve insisted. "And you kept doing those things, um, I think they're called California stops."

"A rolling stop," Bruce supplied and when Steve glanced up at him that's when he caught the conspiratorial glint in the boy's eyes.

"Yeah, that," Steve said as he looked up at Tony. "Pretty sure they're illegal."

"What?" Tony scoffed. "It's California. They're legal in California. That's why they call 'em that."

"I don't think so," Steve ribbed further.

"Oh, you don't think so?" It was clear that Tony was playing along now too. He gave a shake of his head, lips pursed like he was hurt by the accusation. Then he gave a defeated huff. "Okay, backseat driver." He glanced at Bruce. "Passenger seat driver."

"Alright, alright," Bruce said with a chuckle. "C'mere," he teased and Tony leaned in. He gave him a quick peck and said, "You did fine."

"Well, now that I've cleared my name," Tony said cheerfully and clapped his hands together, "let's not just stand out here in the parking lot all day. Let's get into that museum."

"Finally!" Steve cheered and led the way, Bruce and Tony quickly picking up their pace to walk along either side of him.

Before he could check the stray, zealous thought, Bruce decided he liked the way it felt, all three of them together doing something as simple as walking through a parking lot, and then standing in line to get in, Steve's excited chatter filling the space. A few glances at Tony made him wonder if he liked it too.

Just as they got past admission, Steve still going on and on about the comic artist who would be there for a Q&A, part of the reason they'd brought him to the museum specifically, his speech sputtered into a coughing fit. Bruce quickly ushered him over to one side and helped him as Steve pulled out his inhaler. Bruce was grateful that they'd chosen to come on a weekday to avoid too large of crowds as it afforded Steve space to breathe in and out deeply.

"In and out," Bruce said with each breath, keeping a steady hand on his upper back. "You're doing good. I can feel your chest starting to take in oxygen like it should," he encouraged. He glanced up to see Tony worrying his bottom lip, unused to this sort of thing if Bruce had to hazard a guess. He understood. It was a little terrifying even when you were used to it.

"We know your excited," Tony said with a glance at Bruce and an easy going chuckle in spite of his obvious worry, "but maybe we should pace our fun just a little bit."

"Sounds like a good idea," Bruce agreed. "Steve, how about you stay here and rest a few minutes and I'm going to go get you a water from the cafeteria or something, okay?" Steve nodded. 

"I can do that," Tony offered.

"Oh. Uh, okay." Bruce smiled and watched him go and then led Steve over to a bench. Immediately he realized Steve was distraught. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I always ruin things because I'm sick," Steve answered with an indignant huff. Bruce frowned. "I can't do _anything_."

"You haven't ruined anything, Steve. We're still going to have plenty of fun today. Just because we have to go at a slower pace doesn't mean—"

"You're just being nice," Steve interjected. "I just know I'm going to ruin everything. Why would anyone want to adopt me?" Bruce furrowed his brow.

"They'd want to adopt you because you're a wonderful kid, Steve," Bruce replied.

"Maybe I should just let Nick adopt me," Steve said forlornly and Bruce tilted his head. "I just know the other person will realize I'm not the right kid for them. I'm too much trouble."

Bruce came back from inside his head, where it was a mess of confused thoughts regarding the unexpected news that somebody else besides Nick was interested in adopting Steve, when he realized Steve was on the verge of upsetting himself further. He definitely didn't need that so soon after an attack and he certainly didn't need to ruin his special day out worrying about things that didn't need to be worried about.

"Hey," Bruce said gently and Steve looked up at him, "listen to me okay? You are _not_ too much trouble. Just because you have some extra things in your life you have to deal with it doesn't make you any less worth it. Do you understand?" Steve's eyes slowly widened even as his lip quivered slightly. "We all have things that we have to deal with and when someone comes along and loves us, if they really love us, it means they're willing to help us deal with it." He smiled, his own lips wavering. "And you, Steve? You're as easy to love as they come. I bet this other person knows that because how could they not?"

Steve smiled at him and then wrapped his arms around him for a hug. It was no effort at all for Bruce to hug him back.

"One water, as ordered," Tony interrupted then and Bruce looked up in surprise to see him standing there with the water held out. He wondered if he'd just reached them as he hadn't noticed him before.

"Thanks," Bruce said and took it. "He can't have it until it's room temperature," he explained to Tony. "Too cold of water can aggravate the issue. Warmer water is best after an attack."

"Noted," Tony replied and for some reason the sincerity in his tone gave Bruce pause. "So, are we all rested and ready to leisurely enjoy the museum?"

Bruce looked at Steve for his answer and he said, "Yeah."

They began said leisurely trip through the exhibits, Steve getting excited over every single one to some extent as they wound their way through the museum towards the one he was most anxious to get to. Throughout their meandering Tony, unsurprisingly, was ever engaging and encouraging Steve's chatter. Bruce enjoyed observing as it happened although more than once they both encouraged him to join in so that he never felt like an unwanted third-wheel. It made him smile and think to himself again how he liked the way it felt. It felt, well, right. In fact, if he let himself think too hard about it, it was maybe a little terrifying. So he tried not to think too hard about it.

"I like that little smile you get on your face when you're thinking about Steve." Of course, Tony had an excellent way of reading him. He turned to see Tony had rejoined him and Steve after having spotted a free sample at a nearby exhibit and his curiosity too strong. Bruce had to snort at how much of a big kid he was acting like in the museum. "You've been wearing it all morning, incidentally." Tony opened the package and looked into it with a curious expression, then smiled at whatever the contents were. Bruce's smile was one of amusement now, aimed at the billionaire. Tony pulled out what looked like a couple of blueberries and popped them into his mouth before proffering the bag in his direction. Bruce shrugged and reached his hand in as Tony held it. "But I understand," Tony continued with a nod, looking at Bruce and then looking past him to where Steve was. "It's great to see him so happy and in his element." Bruce tilted his head and turned back to look at Steve. "This is where all those kids should be," Tony clarified and Bruce nodded in immediate agreement. "Out here in the world, living it, loving it." He sighed. "But, I don't know, I'm especially happy to see _him_ enjoying himself. Does that make me a bad person?"

Bruce raised his eyebrows and turned back with a quick, "No, of course not." He shook his head. "You connected with Steve. There's nothing wrong with that."

Tony smiled, a touch smug and knowing, and said, "Then stop feeling like it makes _you_ a bad person." Bruce's eyes widened, not having expected that kind of set up. He opened his mouth to protest, but then shut it again. "It doesn't, Bruce. You take care of all of those kids the best you know how, but Steve is special to you and that's okay. It doesn't mean you're betraying any of the others."

"I know that in theory," Bruce started, but didn't know where to go with it.

"Do you expect a parent to care about the other kids in the hospital?"

"What?" Bruce blinked several times.

"Exactly what I asked," Tony said with a shrug. "You don't expect Nick to care about Cassie or that Lensherr fellow to care about Natasha. Because they aren't their kids."

"Steve's not—"

"Hey, guys, come look at this!" Steve called over and waved his hand at them to join him by one of the exhibits.

Tony gave Bruce a look that said he knew where that statement was going, but didn't believe him. He then moved over to where Steve was.

"Oh, Vibranium. This stuff is rare," he immediately started engaging with Steve as Bruce stood back, still dumbfounded. "But it's the strongest known metal in the world so you'd better believe it's value is pretty priceless."

"I was thinking maybe I should make Captain America's shield out of it in my comics," Steve said eagerly. "What do you guys think?" He looked up at Tony for his approval and then towards him. His smile fell a little. "Dr. Banner? Are you okay?"

Bruce blinked several times, his eyes focusing on Steve as he gave a thin, maybe a little emotional, smile. He nodded and made his way over to join them.

"Yeah, Steve. I'm okay." His smile widened. "And I think only the strongest, rarest metal on Earth would be good enough for Captain America's shield." He placed a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Since Phil is always saying he's based on one of the strongest, rarest people in the world."

Steve smiled and ducked his head, sheepishly saying, "I don't know about that."

But Bruce did. He knew it more than just about anything else he'd ever known. Just like he could deny it or not do anything about it, but he knew he wished Steve Rogers was his own son.

\-----

"Okay, this is ridiculous," Tony said with a laugh as he tried to fill out a comic panel in one of the interactive sections of the comic exhibit. "I can draw up schematics and blueprints all day long. But take away my rulers and compass and apparently I'm useless."

Bruce snorted beside him and said, "Yeah, I'm a little concerned about how steady my hands really are if I can't even draw a straight line for a stick figure." Tony looked over at his paper and indeed there were stick figures. Bruce closed one eye and tilted his head. "Then again, my hand writing is as bad as any doctor's so…" He shook his head and laughed before glancing over at Tony's paper. "And what are you talking about? That totally looks like Batman." Tony frowned.

"It's supposed to be The Flash," he told him and Bruce's eyes widened as he clearly choked on a laugh. "That's not a bat emblem it's a lightning bolt," Tony continued.

"I… um…" Bruce rolled his lips and looked down at it in a skeptical and scrutinizing fashion before looking back up at him. "Are you sure? I mean, Batman's a billionaire genius tech guy. Why wouldn't you draw Batman?"

"Oh, because I'm also a billionaire genius tech guy I should like Batman is that it?" Tony returned the skeptical look. "Do you like Batman because his name is Bruce?"

"Um… I… No." Bruce shook his head.

"Then okay. I'd probably hate the guy if he were real, to be honest. He'd be competition." Bruce snorted. "Flash on the other hand. He's fast and, well, flashy. That's way more fun than the whole sulking vigilante thing."

"Well, given the way you drive—"

"Hey, now," Tony threatened with a smirk, "you can always walk home."

"Or take a bus," was Bruce's dry response, the other man not even batting an eye.

"Hey, you're drawing Batman!" Steve suddenly was standing in front of them. He'd been showing his own comic panels to the comic artist. Bruce shook his head as if to warn him he was wrong and Steve furrowed his brow.

"Oh come on! It's Flash!" Tony griped. "I knew I should have drawn Green Lantern."

"Said nobody ever," Steve joked, earning a genuine laugh from both him and Bruce.

"Okay, Mr. Artist?" Tony looked at him. "What did _you_ draw?"

"Um…" Steve looked down at his own sheet of paper and then looked back at them. "I don't think you'd be interested."

"I have a feeling you just made him more interested, Steve," Bruce said with a chuckle. "Incidentally, me too. But if you don't want to share, you don't have to."

Steve studied the paper long and hard again and then sighed, saying, "Okay, but don't, like, be mad at me, okay?"

"Why would we be mad at you—" Bruce started. "Oh. Oh, I see," he quickly corrected as they both looked at the proffered comic panels. Bruce cleared his throat. "Um, well, it's… a pretty great likeness."

Tony nodded, trying to hold back a laugh as he looked between the drawing and Steve and Bruce in a quick succession. Steve was looking at anything and everything he could, his cheeks bright red. Bruce was rather crimson as well.

"Well, it's only fair Iron Man have a hot squeeze, now isn't it?" Tony asked calmly.

"Oh god," Bruce said and buried his face in his hands, shaking his head.

"You're mad," Steve started.

"No, no, I'm not," Bruce assured him, slowly scrubbing the hands down his face to look at Steve. "It's… maybe a little inappropriate," he tried.

"There's not even skin," Tony tried to be a little more practical. "Just some… kissing."

"Tony, it's clearly implied," Bruce said, looking at him dubiously. Then he looked at Steve. "It's implied right? That we're about to…um…"

"Yeah," Steve said with a mumble and looked down in a guilty manner. "I mean, I wouldn't have drawn it because that's kind of gross. But I was just trying to make it realistic like other comics. Nobody wants to read something that doesn't have at least a little of that kind of stuff in it." He shrugged.

"Steve," Bruce said gently, "there's absolutely nothing wrong with keeping it PG if that's what you're comfortable with."

"And you're 11," Tony added. "Nobody expects you to add anything like that."

"That's good," Steve said in very clear relief, complete with a sigh. "Because it was kind of weird. I mean, drawing the kissing's not so bad I guess. Every now and then." He scrunched his face. "But I was just trying to make it clear that Iron Man and him are together. Is… is that okay?" He titled his head questioningly. "That they're dating?"

"Of course," Tony said. "If that's what you want."

"You know, I'm surprisingly okay with being the obligatory love interest for Iron Man," Bruce added with a laugh. "It would probably be interesting."

For some reason Steve looked confused and also like he wanted to say something, but before he could there was an elder gentleman suddenly at his side. It was the comic artist himself and he glanced down at Steve's drawing with a kindly laugh.

"Don't worry about it too much," the older man said and patted Steve on his shoulder. "Art is about experiment and expression. I'm sure your son here was just testing the limits of what he could get away with. And if he's anything like I was, he's probably already decided he's more than okay with sticking with the punching and kicking. Am I right?" He looked down at Steve, who's eyes were wide. Then the man looked back. "Also, your son is very talented." He set down a card. "I'd love if you gave me a call sometime. Maybe we can look into getting him into some program at least. But who knows? Maybe he's got what it takes already to get published." The man patted Steve on the shoulder again and said, "You have a bright future ahead of you, kid." Then he moved on.

Steve slowly turned his head to look at him and Bruce, his eyes still wide. Tony smiled, happy, and strangely proud, over his talent being recognized so marvelously. However, Steve's look turned nervous which was strange. He didn't seem awestruck. Tony glanced at Bruce who glanced back, clearly just as uncertain about Steve's reaction.

"I swear I didn't tell him I'm your son," Steve finally said. Tony blinked, looked at Bruce again and then looked back.  

"Oh," Bruce simply toned, as if he wasn't sure how else to response.

"Hey, is that what you're focused on?" Tony intervened. "He just said you're so talented maybe you could be published. That's amazing! I mean, we already knew you were that good, but I'd say that calls for some celebratory ice cream after we leave here." Steve's nervous expression started to morph into a tentatively proud one. "Besides," Tony continued, "being mistaken as your dads is quite the honor. I'd say Bruce and I both would think being your dad, or dads, would be just about one of the best things in the world."

"Really?" Steve's eyes widened, a smile spreading across his face, and he immediately glanced at Bruce to gauge the response of the more guarded man. When it wasn't forthcoming, the eager expression on his face started to fall.

"Hmm?" Bruce seemed to break from his reverie. "Oh, yes, yes of course. Of _course_ ," he said adamantly. "That would be… It would be the biggest honor I could imagine," he said with a smile on his face. Tony watched the exchange carefully as Steve's eagerness returned to its fullness. It was only interrupted again when Bruce furrowed his brow. He pulled out his vibrating phone, the one Tony knew was his work phone since SI supplied them to the hospital for all employees to use rather than pagers. "It's Dr. Blake," he said. "I've got to take this," he said and quickly got up and moved to a quieter location.

Tony watched him go before looking back to see Steve was watching the direction Bruce had gone with mild concern. Tony bit his lip and looked down at his abandoned attempt at comic art. He knew he couldn't bring up his own interest in adopting Steve yet since he was still awaiting approval to move to the next stage of the process, but it didn't mean he couldn't bring up the other obvious thing he still needed to consider. Nick's words had been haunting him since their private conversation.

"Something tells me you'd be just as honored to have Dr. Banner as a dad, wouldn't you, Steve?" Steve looked at him quickly, startled. "It's okay to admit it. I won't say anything to him."

"I—" Steve aborted whatever defense was on the tip of his tongue and nodded slowly. "But he would never really adopt me," he said with a shrug then. "Somebody else is interested," he looked at him with enough of a curious glint in his eyes that told Tony he suspected it was him, "besides Nick, but… I don't think it's Dr. Banner. He's just my doctor. I'm just his patient."

Tony's heart practically twisted at the disheartened conviction in Steve's voice. He opened his mouth, prepared to say whatever he could to reassure Steve without betraying Bruce's trust or giving away his own interest when he caught sight of Bruce heading back toward them quickly. Tony's eyes widened when he realized the other man looked absolutely terror-stricken. Tony stood to his feet to greet him.

"We need to go," Bruce said, somehow calm and frantic at the same time.

"Okay," Tony replied simply and helped Steve gather his things and then they left the exhibit.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, glancing up at Bruce as he they walked briskly through the museum towards the exit. "Did something happen? What did Dr. Blake say?" It was clear to Tony that Steve understood all too well that this was some sort of medical emergency and he was both curious and afraid. Bruce stopped abruptly. He turned toward Steve and crouched down to be eye level with him. "Is something wrong?" Steve asked.

"Steve, I can't tell you, okay?" Steve opened his mouth to protest, but Bruce pressed on. "I want to very much. I also don't want to," he said and Tony realized with sudden dread that something _was_ wrong. "I want you to trust me and I don't want you to be angry with me, but I also have to do my job right now, understand? It's my job to take care of you while you're under my supervision. It's also my job not to tell you something that's not my place to tell you. I realize that doesn't keep you from worrying. I understand because I'm worrying too. But remember your health for me, please. Remember your breathing. Try to be brave, Steve," Bruce said so ominously that Tony felt the need to try and be brave himself.

"I… I understand," Steve finally said, giving a small nod. "Um… Can I go to the restroom really quick?" He pointed toward the nearby facilities and Bruce nodded. They both watched him disappear into the restroom and then Bruce turned and looked at Tony, emotion flooding his face as he lifted his hand to his mouth in an effort to hold it all in.

"Tony," Bruce said, shaking his head. "It's… I shouldn't…" He warred with himself as he let his hand fall and hung his head. Tony placed a hand on his shoulder, not sure of how much physical comfort he wanted or needed at the moment. He seemed to lose his will to do what he should because he looked back up, meeting Tony's gaze. "It's Phil."

Tony suddenly felt like he might be sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The comic artist may or may not be an ode to Stan Lee cameos...  
> 2\. Idk why but Steve experimenting with NSFW stuff was far too hilarious in my head because on the one hand I think we've all been Steve at one point - trying to be edgy even if we're not comfortable with it because we think we should be to be approved of (this includes innocent things one might do to fit in at school too!) - or at least I have and on the other hand now I'm an adult and looking back I cringe just like Bruce thinking... okay you really don't/didn't have to do that!  
> 3\. "and if they really love us, it means they're willing to help us deal with it" like please nobody take this to the extreme of meaning "hey if you love someone you'll put up with their shitty behavior/abuse/etc." because no you shouldn't do that! And that's obviously not the intended case at any point in this story where this narrative appears.


	17. Chapter 17

"I've suggested that we move him to BMT for an immediate surgery," Charles was telling Bruce as he and the other doctors deliberated Phil's aggressive relapse and how they should proceed with his treatment. "I've already had them begin prep should everyone agree we move him."

Bruce pursed his lips as he tried to harden himself to the situation so to keep himself from responding emotionally. But the truth of the matter, the truth not being spoken, was this had become more aggressive more quickly than they'd counted on and now the odds were phantom numbers, slippery and unpredictable. If Bruce gave into his emotions he would be nothing but pure worry that this wouldn't be enough for him.

"I think—"

"No!!!!"

Bruce was cut off by the sound of Steve's heart wrenching scream from somewhere out in the hallway, where Nick was explaining to him the situation. Bruce's whole being felt like it was being retched from him at the sound and everything in him screamed _run_.

"Bruce?" Dr. Xavier brought him back from where he'd been with a gentle, entreating expression that studied him and very likely saw right through him as Charles was apt at doing.

Bruce blinked and glanced around. The other doctors were studying him, although they each had their own frowns over the entire situation at hand.

"I agree with that suggestion," Bruce said, swallowing hard against his dry throat. "Let's move him to BMT and then after the transplant we can hopefully go from there."

"Right," Charles said and then looked at the other doctors with a nod. "Let's get everything prepped. Double time." Bruce turned to leave with the others, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Charles looking at him all too knowingly. "I think you need to be here, Bruce."

Bruce took in a deep breath, ready to become defensive, only to let it out in a heavy sigh. He nodded quietly and followed him out of the room and down the hall toward Phil's room. On the way he was met with Nick pacing back and forth in the hallway while Natasha held onto a crying Steve in consolation, her own usual spirited face wracked with a more solemn emotion. Nick stopped when he saw them.

"We're moving him to BMT," Charles said when Bruce couldn't find the answer Phil's father was clearly looking for. He then patted Nick on his arm and moved past him into the room.

When Bruce looked at Steve and Natasha to see them exchange looks and then look toward the room, he understood and found his voice to say, "Phil's going to be unconscious for his surgery soon. So if you want to wish him well, now would be a good time. Just, don't excite him too much, okay?" They both looked at each other and then at Nick. He very slightly inclined his head and they quickly moved into the room.

"Be honest with me, Dr. Banner," Nick said when they were alone, fixing him with a solemn look of his own. "I know if anyone is going to give it to me straight, it's you. That's why I wanted you here."

Bruce closed his eyes tight and after a moment gave a small shrug in answer, saying just as much, "I don't know if it's going to be enough." He opened his eyes to see Nick's stricken face. The man swallowed hard before giving a small nod as if to steel himself again. Bruce didn't hold it against him. "We really can't know until after we do this. But—"

"But?" Nick eyed him carefully and Bruce sighed.

"We need to be prepared to look into further treatment. We're still waiting to hear back from that specialist from Papeete."

"Stark's making a call about that right now," Nick informed him.

"Oh," Bruce said, blinking. "Okay, well, that's good. Hopefully he can get some kind of definitive answer for us."

"He seemed pretty determined," Nick said and Bruce understood Tony well enough already that he knew Nick meant Tony was desperate to fix this if he could. "But I won't say I'm not grateful," he indulged.

Bruce nodded and then moved into Phil's room, Nick right behind him for only half a second before pushing past him and the kids to be right at Phil's side. Bruce froze and nausea washed over him at the emotional sight.

"Hey, dad," Phil said tiredly when he noticed him, eyes looking up at him like everything was better now that he was there. "Dr. Xavier said…" He coughed a few times.

"I know," Nick said so he didn't have to exert himself. "You're going to have a bone marrow transplant. No biggie."

"Are you sure?" Phil asked and Bruce bit down on another wave of emotion. "I'm… I'm not clocking out am I?" Nick looked like he'd been struck a blow and he quickly leaned over Phil and gently took his face in his hands.

"You listen to me," he said. "That's not even an option. You're going to get this surgery and then, then we're going to talk to that specialist and _you_ are going to get better."

"I want to," Phil said, eyes wet and droopy.

"You will," Nick said, moving to hug him. "I believe in you."

"Yeah, you're a fighter," Natasha chimed in. Steve suddenly ran out of the room and Bruce turned his head sharply, following his flight and debating if he should follow.

"Here you go, kid." Bruce turned his head back just as sharply at the unexpected sound of Clint, the boy still rarely one to speak. Clint had handed him a note apparently and Phil was reading it.

"That's so nice," Phil said. He looked up at his dad. "Can I hold onto it during surgery?"

"We'll see," Nick said, noncommittal.

Steve suddenly rushed back in with a picture in hand. Natasha let him in where she'd been sat on one side of her brother. Steve handed it over and Phil's eyes widened immediately.

"Captain America believes in you too."

"You… You drew him like you," Phil said in disbelief.

Steve shrugged and said, "I was saving it for your birthday, but I figure it might be something to encourage you when you get out of surgery. I can always draw you something else."

"I knew you would make a good Captain America," Phil said. "Are you gonna," he coughed, "draw him like this from now on? Please?"

"I…" Steve hesitated. "If it'll make you happy."

"It will," Phil said with a weak smile. "If I can be Agent Coulson you can be Captain America."

"Okay," Steve replied. "I promise I will."

A few nurses from the BMT unit came into the room then. Charles took the drawing from Phil and looked at it.

"Captain America and Agent Coulson," he read aloud. "This is very nice indeed, Steve," he encouraged in his gentle way. "I shall find a frame or plastic sleeve for it that way it'll be kept safe. Then it can go on Phil's bedside table. How does that sound?" Phil only seemed to be able to nod, his energy starting to give out as the nurses made the final preparations for his move.

Nick had to pull Natasha back from where she'd moved around to the other side of the bed and Charles had to pull back Steve, both clearly not wanting to see leave. The air was thick with uncertainty and Bruce felt like he couldn't breathe.

"I can't do this," he mumbled as he hurried out of the room.

\-----

Tony hurried down the hall towards Phil's room only to stop short when he saw the little boy himself being wheeled passed him on a trolley by some nurses, Fury right behind him. Fury stopped when he noticed him. Tony couldn't do anything for a long moment but watch Phil be taken away, blinking when he disappeared around a corner.

"He's being moved to another unit," Fury said. "For surgery."

"The specialist is on his way," Tony found his voice again and looked at the other man, "and should be here early tomorrow morning. I've got Pepper working out the details. She'll get him booked on the next flight and a car will bring him straight here. Everything will be covered, Nick. I told him I would pay him double his usual cost if I have to."

Fury steepled his fingers together against his lips and closed his eye. He nodded and then breathed a sigh of relief.

"Dear God, I only pray it's enough," he said and even their solemn moment in the chapel seemed nothing compared to the raw emotion in his voice. He then opened his eye and let his hands fall. "Thank you."

"Had to be done. Your son is going to get better, Nick."

"He'll have a fighting chance at least," Fury replied soberly and then continued on. Tony watched him go.

"Tony, thank goodness you're back." Tony turned with a furrowed brow to see Charles hurrying toward him. "I just went to find Bruce and I'm afraid he's left."

"What do you mean?" Tony was confused.

"I mean he left Phil's room and I don't think he's just stepped out for a bit of fresh air."

"It's been a long day. He probably needs rest," Tony reasoned. He knew that Bruce felt the weight of his job and things like this more than he cared to admit, no matter how hard he tried not to. Tony's eyes suddenly widened in realization and Charles nodded as if hearing his thought process.

"Yes," Charles said. "You see, some people experience an almost continual state of fight or flight. It's a psychological phenomenon. I know that surely you've figured out by now who he is," Charles said then with a small grimace and hitch of his shoulder.

"Shit," Tony realized where he was going with that. "He'll do anything to avoid the fight instinct. He's…" He rolled his lips and looked upward. "He's Steve's Hulk, isn't he?" He wasn't sure if Charles knew what he was talking about with that second question. It was more of him speaking his own thoughts aloud as the pieces started to fall into place.

"I fear if he leaves this building, he won't come back if he can manage it."

"I've got to stop him."

"Well, I… I don't know that's quite a good idea either on second thought," Charles said nervously. " _You_ seem quite prone to the other half of—"

Tony didn't stick around to hear the full of Charles' caution, too intent to get to Bruce. He had Bruce's car keys still so he wouldn't be able to take his car to leave. That was a small thing in his favor. He caught up to the doctor just outside the exit, walking towards his car just the same.

"Bruce, where are you going?" Bruce stopped in his tracks.

"Away from here." Bruce then turned and looked at him and he almost didn't quite look himself. "I know what you're going to try and say, but I'd appreciate it if you just don't. And I'd also appreciate it if you'd give me my keys."

"So is that it, Dr. Banner?" Tony looked at him with incredulously narrowed eyes. "Every time life has you up against the ropes you run away?" Bruce set his jaw and pursed his lips as he shook his head, looking around at nothing in particular. "You're just going to leave Steve—"

"Don't you dare make this about Steve," Bruce cut him off with more temper than Tony had ever seen from him, eyes glaring at Tony now. Good, he decided. Maybe if he made Bruce mad enough it would override this nonsensical urge of his to run.

"Why not? Huh?" Tony challenged. "Because that would be making it personal?"

"Oh my god, you don't get it."

"Really?" Tony continued. "I don't get it? So you didn't run away from the science community after your accident?" Bruce's eyes widened. "Yes, I've know. I've known from the moment you said your name. I'm not an idiot, Bruce. You were the top nuclear physicist in the world."

"No, no," Bruce countered, waving one hand and Tony glanced down to see the other balled up into a fist at his side, "I was just another arrogant scientist with delusions of single-handedly saving the world from people like you." It was Tony's turn to look at him with wide-eyed shock. He'd wanted to make Bruce mad, but he hadn't expected that. Is that the real reason why he'd been so hesitant? "Clearly you know all about me," he said in a bitter tone. "But I thought if I was the kind of weak man who couldn't end a war I was at least going to find a way to protect people from power hungry governments and war profiteers."

"So then why didn't you go back?" Tony asked after a minute of reeling from the delivered blow. "Hmm? Why did Mr. High and Mighty run away when things didn't go his way?"

"Because I got the hell I deserved!" Bruce spat. "I nearly killed innocent people with my arrogance! I should have died and I can't tell you how many times I wished I had. What kind of mad man shoots himself up with as much radiation as I did? Huh!? Can you tell me, Tony?" Bruce looked a bit wild in the eyes in spite of standing perfectly still and keeping an even tone. "And for what? To prove myself? No, the only thing I proved was I couldn't be trusted with that much power."

"You're a doctor," Tony pointed out the flaw in his logic.

"Yeah, because I thought this way I could move on with my life. Do something actually good to help people," Bruce answered with a shrug and turned to walk on to his car.

"So you want to help people, but you don't want to let them in?" Tony followed him. "How does that make sense?" Bruce spun on his heel, another glare fixed on him.

"And what about you? Huh?" Bruce shook his head. "I didn't get it until you told me about your friendship with Dr. Yinsen, but it makes sense now." Bruce snorted derisively. "I'm not the only one building up walls here, Tony. You built a damn _fortress_. A fortress called Yinsen Memorial."

"Hey!" Tony shouted at him, unable to accept that kind of insult. "I'm trying to save people too."

"You're trying to redeem yourself," Bruce countered flatly.

Tony sucked in a breath at the harsh reality that was thrown back in his face.

"I can do both," he replied evenly.

"Can you!?" Bruce threw up his hands. He looked around. "Can _anybody_?"

" _You_ can," Tony suggested in compromise. 

"No, Tony. I can't." He shook his head. "Let's face it. The only man who was capable of saving lives was Yinsen. You and I are just poor facsimiles." Tony closed his eyes shut and bit his top lip. "We've both been trying to prove we're not the men we used to be, but it'll never be enough. We'll never be him instead," he said in a hoarse whisper. Tony opened his eyes to see all of the fight had drained out the other man again. "And I'm tired, okay? I’m tired of pretending like I can do this. You asked me if I could just walk away, well, I guess this is the answer," he said, his lips fighting a slight quiver by the looks of it. "Because today is a reminder that this job hurts and it can all change overnight even when you think you should know what's happening and how to curtail it." He shook his head again. "I will _not_ stay here and risk watching the same thing happening to Steve. God forbid, but I won't. Because I know I'm not strong enough."

"But you're strong enough to handle breaking his heart?" Tony gave him a dubious look and Bruce returned it.

"His heart isn't the one on the line here," Bruce said, exasperation growing again. "And maybe you're right. Maybe I don't want it to be personal, but this has reminded me why it's just not a good idea to get close. But I can't help it with that little boy so I need to leave. I…" He bit his lip and then looked down. "I should probably walk away from us too, Tony. It's clear I'm only going to hurt you more in the long run because I'm not any good at this."

"Fine," Tony said, feeling bitterness overtake him, "you want to call off our relationship then whatever." He waved a dismissive hand. He didn't mean it, but he wasn't in the mood to force the issue. "But are you seriously that emotionally closed off that you can't see what you're walking away from with Steve?"

"I know exactly what I'm walking away from," Bruce argued. "And I know I'm being selfish, valuing my self-preservation over caring for him and my other patients, but—"

"For the love of God, Bruce," Tony shouted, "he loves you!"

"I—" Bruce seemed to have all of his fight knocked out of him again as he stood there in a blinking stupor. "What?"

"Do you know one of the reasons why Nick took so long?" Bruce furrowed his brow and turned his head a little away from him as if afraid of the answer. "Because of you." Bruce's eyes widened. "Because everyone can see just how in love with you that kid is. You're everything to him and he thinks it's not reciprocal when you and I both know damn well it is. I think he'd probably combust if you were to even _consider_ adopting him." Bruce stood stock still, looking at him like a deer in headlights. Tony sighed. "And I get it. You don't want to think about losing him, but if you walk away that's exactly what's going to happen anyway and I know you'll regret it."

Bruce's mouth opened, eyes widening just a little more and glistening with unshed tears. Then he closed it again along with his eyes, face wrenching as if pained. Tony sighed again knowing there was nothing else that could be said. Ultimately it was up to Bruce and maybe Tony was just as afraid as he was because he put his walls back up. He didn't want to stick around and find out if the man he'd fallen head over heels for could strike the final blow.

"Here are your keys," he said. Bruce opened his eyes quickly and just barely had time to react in catching them when Tony tossed them in his direction. Then Tony turned and headed back into the hospital.

"Where's Dr. Banner?" Tony was immediately assaulted by Steve when he got back off the elevator, the little boy waiting with so much worry in his eyes Tony could barely stand it. "You couldn't get him to come back?"

"You overheard didn't you?" Tony realized with dread.

"Natasha did," he answered. He then looked at the elevator. "Is he going to quit?"

"I don't know," Tony answered honestly. "He might just need a little time. This isn't an easy job." Steve frowned and his lip quivered.

"He's going to leave, I just know it," he said, breaking into tears suddenly. Tony's eyes widened and he crouched down to look at him.

"You don't know that, Steve," he tried.

"Yes, I do!" Steve countered. "Dr. Banner said I'm not too much trouble, but I am. And nobody cares enough about me to deal with it." He sobbed harder.

"Nick—"

"Doesn't really want me!" Steve spat. "He just feels sorry for me. Or… or maybe he thinks Phil—" He didn't finish, choking on a sob.

"Look, Steve," Tony said firmly, "I know it's hard to understand all of the weird stuff adults do or the way they think, but Nick cares for you. He just didn't know the right way to show it. He didn't know what would make you believe him."

"So it's my fault?" Steve looked at him like he'd been slapped and Tony could kick himself for his careless delivery. Of course Steve would pick up on _that_ implication.

"No, Steve, no that's not what I'm saying," Tony tried again, growing frustrated that he didn't know how to make this better. "I'm just trying to say that Nick cares for you, okay? He was wrong if you didn't feel like he did, not you. But maybe he's asking for you to forgive him. The point here is you have people that care about you, Steve. And I know it's hard for you to believe that, but it's true. Dr. Banner especially—"

"Then why is he leaving?" Steve asked, starting to cry hard enough that his chest heaved violently up and down like he was choking.   

"I don't know!" Tony answered louder than he'd meant to as he stood up straight again. Steve startled a little and Tony immediately closed his eyes, regretting letting himself lose his patience. Everything was wrong. Phil being sick was wrong. Steve feeling unwanted was wrong. Bruce running away was wrong. Everything was wrong. "I'm sorry, Steve," he said, shaking his head in apology. "And you don't know that he's leaving—"

"You're lying," Steve choked out, his body trembling where he stood in a defensive stance. "You're lying! You know he's not coming back! He doesn't even want to be my doctor anymore! He—"

Steve suddenly reeled backwards, his eyes rolling back in his head. Everything else was forgotten as Tony launched himself quickly around to catch Steve as the little boy started to collapse, unconscious.

"Nurse! Somebody! Help!" Tony screamed as he tried to figure out what to do. "Steve? Steve, can you hear me? Is it your asthma? If you can hear me, you need to breathe. You need—" He placed a hand on the artery he'd become quite familiar with in recent weeks to check his pulse and that hand flew up to his mouth immediately. "Oh god. It's… It's… Nurse!" he screamed again and thankfully several nurses started running in his direction.

"Oh my god, Steve!" Tony blinked rapidly when Bruce emerged from the elevator and was suddenly on his knees in front of Bruce. "No, no, no," he choked out. "God, please, no."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. God, I can't believe I wrote this chapter in May of last year :3  
> 2\. Subtle (or not so subtle) reference to Tahiti (from Agents of Shield) in this chapter.


	18. Chapter 18

Bruce had never really been one to hate hospital rooms, not even when he'd been in one for what felt like an eternity after the accident. The only thing that had been a little precarious for a short while were the labs since they triggered his worst memories of being a scientist and that had faded with time and the realization that he wasn't the one who had to do that anymore. It had faded enough that he had a whisper of a thought to earn a subspecialty in hematology after he finished his cardiology fellowship.

Now as he sat at Steve's bedside with his eyes fixed on the rise and fall of his chest and ears so attuned to the steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor that it drowned out the chatter and chaos that emanated from the rest of the PICU, that cold, white hospital room was his enemy.

Every now and then he would mumble another apology or another entreaty for him to wake up. But it had been six, going on seven, days since Steve's heart had jettisoned. For six, nearly seven, days Steve had been in a coma. Bruce was grateful that Tony had been with him and had called for help in time. He was even grateful that their fight had made him come back in time to help. But at the same time— The thoughts didn’t bear repeating and yet they were on an endless loop in his head.

If only he hadn’t walked out it wouldn't have escalated to this. He'd hurt Steve and he'd hurt Tony and then Tony had, by his admission, hurt Steve in turn meaning Bruce felt the pain of hurting Steve doubly. And Tony…

He wanted nothing more than to fall into Tony, lean on him through this, get through it together, but he couldn't and didn't deserve it. He couldn't even look at Tony without a fresh wave of regret and shame. They hadn't said more than was necessary over the course of the week. A part of his brain told him Tony was beating himself up more than blaming him, but Bruce could blame himself plenty for the both of them.

Of course, he could barely bring himself to think about Tony's part in this at all when all of his attention was hyper-focused on his regret over Steve and his guilt over having landed the boy where he was now. Tony had said he'd regret walking away, he just didn't know it would be like this. God, if Steve never recovered from this Bruce was fairly certain he'd never forgive himself. He wasn't even certain he'd be able to go on living.

"I'm so sorry, Steve," he said again, his voice small and cracked. "This is all my fault."

"Or maybe it's mine."

Bruce's eyes burned as they blinked for the first time in what must have been ages as he broke from his trance-like state with a start. He closed them tight for a second and then turned his head, focusing his eyes on the redhead that stood just inside the doorway.

"Natasha?" She looked away from Steve and at him. Her eyes were deep with knowing and tinged with more pain than any fourteen-year-old deserved. He watched as she moved to the opposite side of Steve's bed. She gripped the side rails as she looked down at him. "Why would you think that?" Bruce finally processed her statement.

Her lips moved from a frown to a thin line before she admitted, "I heard Dr. Xavier telling Tony that you might not come back and I…" She sighed and closed her eyes, hanging her head. "I was… scared." Bruce's eyes widened even as fresh guilt washed over him. She certainly wasn't one to admit that sort of thing, even when it was perfectly obvious, so Bruce knew she was trying her very hardest to make amends. "I thought you were abandoning Phil. And then that made me angry. I almost hated you," she confessed and opened her green eyes to look at him, solemnity in them. "So I had to do something. I, I told Steve. I thought if anyone could bring you back it was him." She looked back at Steve, lip quivering in a show of emotion before she quelled it. "But I wouldn’t have if— I never meant for this to happen."

"Oh, Natasha," Bruce stood to his feet and moved directly to stand over Steve opposite of her. "This isn't your fault. You're allowed to be scared and upset. You were just reacting to an adult letting you down, which I did. And that's why it's my fault, not yours. Not Tony's either since I hurt him too and he was trying to help Steve while hurt. That's not easy to do."

"That's sort of like what Dr. Xavier said during our last session," she said. Then she tilted her head. "But… I don't know why everyone seems to want me to think it's not my fault when to me it still feels like it."

"Well," Bruce considered, "you're allowed to your emotions and we can't make you do anything, but we just don't want you to blame yourself when you don't deserve that kind of guilt." He hoped she could understand that. She was usually sharp as a tack, but maybe emotions were a little trickier for her.

"Okay, but…" She furrowed her brow, head still tilted. "Then why is it _your_ fault?"

"I'm a doctor and it's my job—"

"But Tony said you were terrified because, well, because you love all of us so much that you don't want anything to happen to us. How is that any different? Aren't you allowed to be scared and upset?"

"Out of the mouth of babes." They both turned their heads in sync to see Nick standing there, looking torn between a soft smile in Natasha's direction and a regretful frown in Steve's. He came slowly into the room and over to stand beside Natasha, wrapping an arm around his daughter's shoulders. He glanced down at her with a thin smile and then met Bruce's gaze. "And she's right, Dr. Banner. Nobody blames you."

"It's my job, Nick," Bruce protested.

"No, it was your job to attend to my son and help make the call. You did that. Your emotional reaction after you did your job had no bearing on his care." Bruce opened his mouth to protest again, but Nick held up a hand to stop him. "Look, Bruce, I know you wish you could be everything these kids need at all times, but you and I both know you'd have to be some kind of superhero for you to be able to do that. You had a human reaction and Steve had a human reaction to your reaction on top of all of his stress over Phil. And then Stark had human reactions."

"Me too apparently," Natasha added.

Nick smiled at her again and hugged her too his side before saying, "Exactly. It's a vicious cycle and I know you don't like where it's landed Steve, but that doesn't make it your fault. That doesn't mean you've failed him as a doctor."

Bruce swallowed hard and looked at Steve for a long moment of nothing but the sound of his machine to fill the silence. Steve looked frailer than he had in a good many long months, since starting his treatment with Dr. Erskine at least. Bruce's chest grew tight simply looking at him. He wanted to rest his hand on his forehead and beg him to wake up, but he wasn't his attending physician at the moment and even with Nick's permission as Steve's guardian to visit him whenever it simply wasn't his right.

"But maybe I failed him as someone who cares deeply about him," Bruce replied, voice barely above a whisper. He glanced up again to gauge Nick's reaction, but it was as neutral as it almost ever was. Natasha, on the other hand, had one eyebrow raised. "I'd love to give him the world," he paused, lips tight and head shaking, before looking back down at Steve and continuing, "so maybe I can't stand the thought of having done the opposite."

"Dr. Banner," Nick said his name with a sigh, though it sounded unusually fond if a tad resigned, "he never needed you to give him the world. As long as he was here and you were too, he already had it." Bruce glanced up quickly. He could still hear Tony's words clear as though they'd only argued a few minutes earlier. "Come on, Natasha. Let's go see how Phil is doing."

Bruce watched them as they left, his mind racing. After a moment of standing dumbly he turned his attention once more to Steve only to be overwhelmed with wave after wave of emotion at the sight of him. He choked on that emotion and lost control of his inhibition, reaching down at last to gently push back blonde hair and then smooth his hand down to rest along Steve's startlingly cold cheek.

"This whole time I thought—" He gave a false start, but then shook his head. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like I could never care about you the way you wanted me to," he tried again. His lip quivered as he brushed his thumb along Steve's cheekbone. "I love you, Steve. I wish you were my son more than anything. I'm pretty sure I've wanted that since the day I met you. I'm sorry I was afraid. I'm sorry I hurt you. I don't know what you see in me, but…" He closed his eyes. "If you—" He opened his eyes. " _When_ you wake up I promise I'll try harder to be that person. I _want_ to be that person, Steve. I won't leave you again."  

\-----

Tony sat in Steve's room in the pediatric ward, on the edge of his bed with a comic in hand. He recalled that fateful day, what already felt like a lifetime ago, he first met the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, spirited boy. Nick had said Phil was the real angel of Yinsen Memorial, but as great of a kid as Phil undoubtedly was Tony was convinced the angel was Steve. At least, Steve was _his_ angel.

Bruce had been right. Yinsen Memorial was more than just an earnest attempt to extend the legacy of truly great man no longer alive to grace the world. It was desperate attempt to prove he had learned his lesson by paying forward all of the faith Yinsen had placed in him. It was an altar of atonement for all his past sins. Yes, it was even a fortress to keep out his demons and anyone else who might get close enough to realize he was the last person who deserved to build a monument for healing others as he'd been healed. He'd just not counted on an eleven-year-old angel coming along and storming the gates of his fortress in order to remind him of what Yinsen had really wanted for him.  

He hadn't counted on Bruce either, of course. He hadn't counted on opening up the gates willingly to let Bruce in. That Bruce had done the math and figured out Tony's darkest secret in all of this was his own fault. All things considered, and he'd done a lot of considering the past six days, he didn't regret letting Bruce get that close. He only regretted that he'd made such a damn mess of his second, second chance. Of course, none of that mattered at the moment. As much as he wanted him and Bruce to find a way to amend their broken relationship, Steve was their first priority.

He looked down at the comic Steve had lent him to read a couple days prior to the incident. He hadn't gotten around to it beforehand and had since put it off until only just that morning. His chest tightened as he looked at the cover of the issue where Iron Man finally learned the truth. The truth that Steve had somehow managed to understand all along: Bruce was a superhero no matter his flaws. And not just any superhero, he was equally the strongest and smartest of all. In retrospect, it was laughable to think Bruce's comic persona was Iron Man's obligatory love interest. In fact, it almost felt like it was the other way around.

Tony set the comic down on Steve's bed and then hung his head in his hand. Maybe Fury was right all along to worry that his past would catch up to him by way of losing Phil. Was this the price _he_ had to pay for atonement? Did he have to lose Bruce and Steve as retribution for what Dr. Yinsen had lost because of him? If so the cost was too high and he'd rather let his demons take him if only they didn't drag Bruce and Steve down with him.

"He seems like a good kid." Tony furrowed his brow and dropped his hand to look at the source of the comment. To his surprise it was Clint. "Phil seems to think so anyway. And Phil's a pretty good kid so he'd know I guess." Tony did his best not to look too startled lest he offend the young teen or make him feel self-conscious.

"He's one of the best," Tony answered, standing to his feet. "Well, they both are, but I guess I'm a little biased toward Steve."

"Natasha said you wanted to adopt him?" Clint raised one eyebrow, but dropped it almost immediately. "Sorry." Tony realized it was because he was frowning hard, the topic too sore for him to comment on. "Um, so, I didn't get to know him all that much." Clint looked around as though he was painfully aware that he was the odd man out, like an obligatory character in an ensemble the writer had no actual idea what to do with. "He was a little standoffish. Makes sense. He wasn't a system kid, was he?" Clint looked back at Tony.

"Well, from my understanding he was passed through a couple of small homes after his parents died, but…" Tony exhaled his feelings of contempt toward the people who'd been blind to the perfect kid they'd had. "None stuck until Nick came along."

"Yeah, sounds like me. Me and—" He cut himself off, eyes flashing with anger and panic before he settled again. "Sounds like me," he reiterated. "It can mess a person up. There's no room for trust. It's best to just tell yourself it's not permanent because it almost never is."

Tony stared blankly at Clint, pity overwhelming him even if he knew better than to make it known, and he had a fleeting vision of Steve in Clint's shoes: a little older and even more jaded. He already had the trust issues down, and yet somehow had intrinsically trusted Bruce even if he'd done so by keeping up his guard, not getting his hopes up. And Steve had trusted him too, with himself and with his favorite person.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Clint spoke again, taking him by surprise. His thoughts must have been loud and clear on his face. Clint shrugged. "When he wakes up he probably won't blame you anymore." Clearly it was no secret what had happened and he could guess the reason. "He probably didn't really blame you at all. It's just a little hard every now and then. You start to think maybe everything's going to work out finally and you forget how it goes so when it does go it's like being rejected the first time all over again."

"That's…" Tony pointed and tilted his head. "That's not exactly helping."

"Not going to sugarcoat it," Clint replied in an unapologetic tone. "That's just how it is. But he'll be fine. He'll realize his mistake, move on and forgive you."

"But he won't trust me," Tony countered. "Or Dr. Banner. And I'm not okay with that."

"Well, too bad," Clint folded his arms obstinately, "because even if the kid likes you, it doesn't mean the trust issues can just be waved away. It doesn't work like that." He shook his head. "If he decides to let you in it's not going to be perfect. He'll still be thinking about what he's risking. And, I don't know," he shrugged again, "adults seem to think they can just choose a kid and live happily ever after. That'd be nice, but the kid has to choose it too, you know? If Steve chose you then it won't matter what you said. Even if he shouldn't, he'll forgive you and it'll be fine. You might not be and it might not be perfect, but," he shrugged again, "maybe it's still better than what it could be." At that Clint dropped his arms and turned to leave. "I wouldn't mind an update if you visit him," he said as he lingered in the doorway with his back toward him. Then he left.

Tony felt frozen in place, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Were there even words to respond to what Clint had said? Was he right or was he only basing it on his own experiences? That led to Tony wondering how bad it must have been for the boy that he was as cynical and blunt about it as he was. He only knew the basics that his brother had been a dangerous influence in his life and they'd run away from the last home they'd been in. Tony recalled what Natasha had said about Steve not having ever had the kind of life she had in the system, in large homes with no prospects for adoption whatsoever. Did that make it better or worse for him in terms of reality and trust? Was that what Clint was getting at?

Tony finally came back from inside his head and put himself into motion. He suddenly had to see Steve. He hadn't known if he could bring himself to visit him again, especially after finally reading the comic… the comic that Steve had trusted him to read before Tony had gone and betrayed that trust. But now if there was any response to be had to Clint's words it was a need to see Steve. He couldn't change what he'd done, but he wasn't going to give up. He would be there when Steve woke up. He would apologize. Then he would do whatever was needed to make things right. He would stop being selfish, like he'd blamed Bruce of being, and finally do whatever it was that would be best for Steve and make him happy.

As Tony neared Steve's room he heard the familiar cadence of Bruce's voice from inside, even if he couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. Tony paused. He and Bruce were still walking on eggshells around each other and he didn't want to make it worse. No, he wanted to make it better for the doctor and wanted to lean on him in turn through this whole ordeal, but that still wasn't on the table. A bitter voice told him it probably never would be again. Tony, being the stubborn man that he was, took a deep breath and squashed that voice for the time being and entered the room.

" _When_ you wake up I promise I'll try harder to be that person. I _want_ to be that person, Steve. I won't leave you again."  Tony came to another short stop at the sight of Bruce bent lovingly over the boy and the sound of his emotional promise. The conviction in his voice was so much that Tony didn't doubt it for a second. In spite of what had happened, Bruce was the man Steve deserved as his father. Tony closed his eyes and gave a small nod in agreement with the thought that came next. Bruce would probably still be the singular person that would make Steve happy when he came back to them. "Oh," Bruce toned and Tony opened his eyes wide. "I didn't— Um…"

Tony hated the tiptoeing between them, hated how wrong it felt, so he tried to stall that for the time being by gently asking, "Any change?" He moved over to the side of the bed opposite of Bruce, trying not to make this harder by letting his eyes linger too long, or too longingly, on the other man. It helped that he nearly only had eyes for Steve at the moment.

"Not much," Bruce answered. "His brain activity is still stable, so that's good, but outside of a few spikes, no."

"Spikes?" Tony hazarded a glance at Bruce and their eyes locked on one another for what felt like an eternity.

Bruce cleared his throat finally and answered, "Um, essentially spikes in brain activity that allow for subtle movement and perhaps awareness, but not sustained. It doesn't necessarily mean he's waking up," Bruce hedged, "but it's good that his brain is still able to reach higher levels of activity."

"He's going to wake up," Tony said immediately in response, looking down at Steve again. He hated how sickly he looked. Tony had read up enough on prolonged comas. He knew that it rarely was as easy as waking up again and going back to life as usual. At the least he'd very likely be delirious and need physical therapy for weeks to get back to life as usual. At the worst… Well, Tony didn't want to think about it. "He's going to wake up, Bruce."

"I know," Bruce said softly. "I believe that. I have to." There was a beat of silence and then Bruce said, "I'll, um, I'll leave you to visit him privately if you'd like. I should probably—" He stopped abruptly when Tony whipped his eyes back toward him and they locked with his again.

"Bruce, please, just," Tony started, unsure of the words he needed to get through to him, but before he could finish the EKG machine picked up in rhythm. They both furrowed their brows and looked at it in sync. While Bruce was still studying it, Tony glanced down at Steve only for his heart to skip a beat. "Steve!" Bruce immediately turned his head back to look at him as well.

"Oh god, Steve!" Bruce sounded like he might break down into tears then and there. Tony could relate as he looked at Steve's open eyes, blinking slowly like an owl might. He looked disoriented, which Tony knew was common, but he was awake. "Steve, you're okay," Bruce said then, very gently as nurses started to rush in. Tony wondered how they'd been alerted, but it was only a fleeting curiosity as he was pushed aside. He quickly moved around to stand beside Bruce. "I know you might be confused right now," Bruce was still talking, "but you're okay. Can you understand me?"

Steve blinked a few more times and then slowly his eyes seemed to come into focus and they slowly rolled sideways to look up at them. He stared at them for a long moment while the hospital staff worked on checking his vitals and a doctor came into the room. Then Steve's eyes widened just the tiniest bit and Tony sighed inwardly at the clear recognition he saw there.

"Doctor…" He mumbled slowly and somewhat incoherently. "Banner?"

"Yes, Steve," Bruce said, more emotional before. "It's me."

"I thought—"

"No," Bruce shook his head, "no, I'm here. I'm still here. Now, another doctor is here and she's going to attend to you okay? But I promise I'm going to still be here when she's done."

"Don't leave," Steve said then and Tony's heart clenched.

"I won't, Steve. I won't."

"I—" Tony wasn't sure of his welcome any longer, but it still hurt thinking about it. With a sigh he forced himself to continue. "I'll go tell Nick." Bruce glanced at him and nodded.

Tony turned to leave the room, but stopped when he heard a weak, "Tony?"

"Shh," Bruce said and Tony glanced over his shoulder to see him pressing him back on the bed as if he'd been trying to sit up. "He'll be right back. He'll be here too."

Tony hoped that was what Steve really wanted.


	19. Chapter 19

"I feel like I've been away forever," Steve said as Bruce pushed him off the elevator in a wheelchair.

"I bet it feels a little like coming home doesn't it?" Bruce asked and Steve nodded.

"I haven't lived anywhere else since I came here," Steve replied as he was wheeled through the hallways of the pediatric ward toward his old bedroom. "Though, I think maybe if I'm adopted finally I might…" He hesitated. "Do you think I should at least leave sometimes? Like I do for school?"

"Well," Bruce considered, "you still have some serious PT until you're cleared to resume your other treatments let alone school." Steve looked up at him over his shoulder. "But after that, yeah, I'd say maybe it wouldn't hurt. If you wanted to."

Steve looked forward again and said, "I just don't want anyone to think I don't actually want to be adopted because I do. But… but I don't want to leave everyone here either."

"I know it's hard," Bruce said, "but I also think that's not in the cards at the moment either way so you don't need to worry about it. Just focus on getting rested up and back in the game for now, how's that sound?"

"Alright," Steve agreed. Bruce smiled and then quietly wheeled him the rest of the way to his room, knowing the surprise that was in store for him.

"Surprise!" Several of the other kids and pediatric staff cheered as they gathered around inside. "Welcome back!"

Steve glanced around the room and Bruce joined him, taking in the streamers and balloons and then the large cardboard stand-up of Captain America Tony had commissioned for him using one of Steve's standalone drawings. He then looked at everyone.

"I didn't know you guys missed me so much," he said, almost sheepishly.

"Well, duh," Natasha replied to that. "We're all like one big dysfunctional family. Of course we missed you."

"Indeed," Dr. Blake and Dr. Xavier said, nearly in unison.

"I missed you too," Steve said, a megawatt smile on his face. He then fixed his eyes on the stand-up again. "Wow! That's so cool. Who made it?"

"This guy has a shop that makes personalized ones," Tony answered from where he lingered further back than most of the others. Bruce glanced at him and then back at Steve to see him craning his neck to try and see Tony for himself. "I, um, may have borrowed one of your drawings of Cap here to have it done, but I put it in plastic and took good care of it. Hope you're okay with that."

"Are you kidding?" Steve asked, enthusiasm practically rolling off of him in waves. "It's super neat! I love it."

"Let's hope your new roomie doesn't get too annoyed by it," Natasha said and Bruce glanced at her sharply, as did her dad.

"New roommate?" Steve looked around in confusion.

"I'm out for now," Natasha told him. "Got discharged a couple days ago."

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Steve asked.

"Dad said it's not always about me," she answered with a roll of her eyes and there were some chuckles.

"Well, it's not," Nick said. He then took over, saying, "Didn't think you should worry about anything, but getting better."

"I would have been happy for her," Steve countered. "I mean, I _am_ happy for her."

"But?" Nick lifted one eyebrow.

"Okay, fine. I would have worried about how lonely I'm going to be now," Steve admitted with a sigh. "I got used to you being around again."

"Did you?" Bruce decided to chime in then. "Natasha was rarely ever where she was supposed to be in the first place," he teased the teen. "I can't imagine this will feel much different."

"He's kind of got a point," Natasha said with an unbothered shrug and Steve laughed.

"I guess that's true," he said, smiling again.

"And," Charles said, "I don't believe you will ever lack for company around here. Everybody loves being around you. And you make friends easily. I'm sure you'll make friends with whomever becomes your new roommate in no time."

"I hope so," Steve replied. "And I _am_ glad that you're better, Natasha." Bruce smiled at his care.

"Okay," Charles spoke again, "there are cookies and light refreshments to celebrate both occasions so how about we head that way, yes?" The children that were there cheered and hurried out of the room, the staff following behind to get back to their respective duties.

Soon it was just Bruce, Steve, and Tony, still in the spot where he'd been lingering. Bruce thought Tony looked strangely uncertain in spite of the fact that Steve had forgiven them both shortly after he'd regained enough coherence to recall the issue. Then again, he was sure Tony still felt the guilt that he himself felt. Maybe more since he'd been the one there at the time of Steve's incident. He could only imagine saying what Tony told him he'd said and then watching Steve go unconscious. He wanted to tell Tony nobody blamed him, but he knew it probably wouldn't do much good and they'd yet to discuss their own argument so he was resolved not to push the subject.

"Steve, how are you feeling?" Bruce asked. "Do you want some cookies and refreshments or do you need to rest a little bit?"

Steve looked up at him and then at Tony. He bit his lip and looked down at his lap. After a moment he looked at the Captain America stand-up again.

"I can't wait to get back to drawing comics again," he said in non-answer. He wasn't quite there with having the full range of his fine motor skill back and a little bit went a long way, which of course frustrated him. "I've been thinking about a story line since I woke up. Since, um, Iron Man and Hulk have met now and are getting along," Bruce glanced at Tony when he felt the other man's eyes on him, "I figure all the heroes should come together and be like a cool superhero team or something. With the help of all the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents." Steve looked at him again. "Are you sure you're not mad I made you Hulk?"

"I'm sure," Bruce said. It had been a surprise when Steve had confessed that he'd based Hulk's alter ego on him, more so than when learning his likeness was being used as a love interest for Iron Man, but only because he was surprised that he'd been sufficiently Googled by his young patients – Natasha as the instigator, no doubt – and that they'd known about his past all along. "And that sounds like a really great story line," he said encouragingly. "I'm sure you'll be drawing it again in no time. As long as you get sufficient rest in between your treatments."

"I'm kind of tired," Steve finally answered the previous question. "But I don't want to just lay down. And I… I don't want to sleep." Bruce frowned and a quick glance at Tony showed the same. "Besides, you guys want cookies and refreshments, right? We should go do that." He looked back and forth between them again and it occurred to Bruce then that Steve had picked up on the uneasiness that had settled over their relationship, if that was still the proper word for it.

"Actually, Steve," Tony finally spoke up, smiling at him and moving forward, "I've got a flight to catch after I leave here."

To say Steve's eyes were the only ones that had gone wide as saucers would be a lie. Bruce studied the billionaire and the quick look Tony turned in his direction told him that whatever this was it was at least in part a vie for distance. Did he need time to think? To be alone and breathe? A little space to deal with his guilt? Or was this his way of saying indefinitely that the broken bridge between them was neither reparable nor cross-able?

"You're leaving?" Steve asked and Tony winced in sync with the shiver that went down Bruce's spine.

"I have a business trip," Tony explained quickly, crouching in front of Steve's wheelchair. "I've got some things to deal with and the Board of Trustees is mainly in New York so that's where I've got to be for a little while. I'll be back. I promise. Like I said when I was discharged, I'll be sure to visit."

"Oh." Bruce heard the absolute disappointment in just that one word and he briefly wondered, not for the first time, at how much Steve adored Tony. Maybe everyone had it wrong and Tony was the person Steve would give anything to have adopt him. "So are you leaving, like right now then?"

"Well," Tony stood up straight, "I was actually going to go pay a very quick visit to Phil before I go," Tony said of the boy who was still undergoing intense treatment in the cancer center. He glanced at Bruce and Steve followed suit. Bruce understood and gave a small smile and nod in answer.

"Sure," he said. "Just not too long and straight back for rest."

"You could come too," Steve suggested.

"I—" Bruce gave a false start as his eyes flickered toward Tony and then back. He shook his head. "No, I need to get some work done," he said. "Besides, you and Tony probably want to say your see-you-laters without me and that's fine." Steve furrowed his brow like he didn't agree, but nothing more was said from him.

"Alright," Tony interjected and moved behind Steve's wheelchair to push him, "next stop Phil's room."

Bruce sighed when they were gone. He looked around the room, glad that Steve was back, but wishing still that none of this had happened. If only he hadn't walked out of the hospital none of this would be broken— He shook his head, willing the thought away. It didn't bear thinking about since he couldn't change it.

He carefully picked up the Captain America stand-up and moved it out of the way to distract himself instead. He sighed again, looking it over with a bittersweet fondness. It was the strong and healthy ideal of Steve and it was Steve's creative genius come to life and it had been Tony's wonderful idea to have it commissioned for him. He turned away before he could let any of those thoughts, particularly the last, linger long enough for him to chase them down a rabbit hole.

His eyes widened as soon as they refocused. Tony was standing just inside the doorway looking at him. Bruce wasn't sure how to read the expression on Tony's face or if he wanted to know how.

"Tony?"

"Bruce, look, I… About this… We…" The usually outspoken and confident genius seemed at a loss for words and that alone felt wrong enough for Bruce to want to put a stop to it, to feel guilty for having caused it in any way. So he held up a hand and shook his head, keeping his expression patient.

"It's alright, Tony. You don't have to say anything. I understand. You… You go to New York and…" He looked down at his hands when he realized he was wringing them. He sighed and shrugged, letting his hands drop to his sides. "And if you want to talk when you get back, I'll be here." He looked up at Tony then. "If not, that's okay too."

Tony searched his face with narrowed eyes and lips drawn taut before giving a sigh and saying, "Alright, Bruce." He glanced past him at the Captain America stand-up. "I know you'll go on taking great care of him," he said, and then glanced back, "but should anything happen… Should you need me, you can still call. Any time."

Bruce nodded his understanding and Tony held his gaze in silence for a moment longer before leaving again. As soon as he was gone the breath he'd been holding escaped his lungs and brought all of Bruce's emotions out along with it. Both of his hands balled into fists as he fought back a wave of anger at himself and at his life only to quickly bring them up to cover his face as the anger turned to sadness. For the first time since realizing he hadn't lost Steve, Bruce let himself cry for what he _had_ lost.

\-----

"I have to say, I wasn't expecting to see you any time soon, Mr. Stark." Maria raised an eyebrow at him from across her desk. "Especially not now that Steve is doing well from what I've heard. I assumed you would still be camped out at the hospital."

Tony bit back a sigh and glanced away as he said, "Yes, well, he is doing better now and I have business in New York." He looked back to see her gaze had now narrowed. "So as much as I'd like to still be at the hospital, it's out of the question at the moment."

"I see," she replied, tone highly suspicious. "Why are you really here, Mr. Stark?" He opened his mouth to answer, but she continued before he could. "No, don't tell me. Let me guess. You're here because you've changed your mind, aren't you?" Tony's eyebrows shot up and he straightened a little in his seat. "Trust me, Stark. I've been doing this long enough now that I can read the body language of a person or couple that's decided they can't handle this from a mile away at least." She sat back a little in her chair and crossed her arms. "What I'm not used to is it coming from someone in your position."

"My position?" Tony furrowed his brow.

"I've been waiting until Steve was healthy enough again to discuss this with him, but I was ready to tell him you're interested in adopting him so he can give me his feedback."

"Wait, so you mean—"

"Yes," she interjected. "You were approved on all of the preliminaries. I'll admit that I was hesitant at first, but you proved to be a strong candidate and your interest in Steve's well-being was undeniable." Her face hardened then. "So, excuse me for being just a little bit confused as to what changed."

"Nothing at all," Tony answered. "I still care about Steve immensely and would like to be his father." She blinked as if surprised. "But this isn't about what I want. It's about what's best for him. Don't tell me you don't still have your own personal reservations on my fitness as a parent, at least to some degree." She glanced down and pursed her lips. "Well, as it turns out so do I. I was trying to overlook those things because I believed I could change. I still know I would do anything in my power to be the father Steve needs. But that doesn’t mean I would be the best father for him. He already has someone better for him than I could ever hope to be. I've decided I don't want to undermine that in any way. It would be selfish of me to ask Steve to settle for me when it's clear I'm not the person he wants or needs."

He was surprised when Maria's response was to roll her eyes and say, "I don't think I ever expected you to sound so much like Nick Fury."

"Um, okay, well, maybe he and I aren’t entirely different," Tony suggested, not that he wanted to consider it one way or another at the moment. He was just doing his best trying to get through this without getting too emotional. "The point is, I've decided I should bow out gracefully before I can hurt Steve any more than I already have. That's the last thing I want."

"I think it's become abundantly clear that you don't want to hurt Steve," Maria said, tone softer than usual. "But, tell me, are you quite certain _this_ won't hurt him?"

Her voice was softer maybe, but Tony could tell by her piercing gaze that she was challenging him. He thought about it for a moment, going over the words he'd been trying to come up with since the moment Tony had come to grips with what he'd inevitably have to do.

"I don't know that it won't hurt him initially," he started slowly, looking up at the ceiling as he spoke, "and even that potentiality upsets me." He shook his head and then straightened it to look at her again. "But in the long run I think this spares him any real pain. In the long run I know that whether it's with Nick or with Dr. Banner should he ever take that chance, Steve's better off without me. I love that kid, so that's why I need to do what's right by him."

Maria studied him for a long moment and then got up and crossed over to a filing cabinet. Tony sighed and looked down at her desk. That was when he noticed the file there with Bruce's name on it. He furrowed his brow and looked over at where Maria's back was turned and then looked down at the file again. Did this mean Bruce had already begun the process after all?

"Alright, Mr. Stark," Maria said and Tony immediately looked her direction just as she was turning back around. She had a file in hand as well as a document. He watched her as she came back over and sat down again. "We can put a pause on the process for sixty days. During this time, if you decide you're still interested in going through with the process, we can pick up where you left off. Mind you, because you were specifically interested in adopting Steve, I not able to promise you that you'll be able to adopt him if you do change your mind. If he decides to accept Nick's offer or any other interested party that's been approved during the time you were sitting out, then I'm obligated to move forward on Steve's behalf in the adoption process with that other candidate. Should Steve still be adoptable or should the process fall through with the other candidate at a later date, you will be able to continue the process with him specifically if you still wish to. Otherwise, if you wish to adopt, you'll be matched with other potential children."

"I..." Tony bit his lip and managed a nod. "I understand."

"If after sixty days, you make no further attempt to continue the process, your application will be withdrawn. You will have to begin the process all over again if you to adopt in the future and as this attempt will be on your record, you will be questioned as to your choice to drop out of the process previously when interviewed." She pushed the document forward and grabbed a pen to place on top. "Now, I just need you to sign this document saying I went over the procedure with you and that you understand the process so I can add it to your file."

Tony picked up the pen and hesitated for only a few seconds too long before signing his name to the bottom line. He sighed and placed the pen down again. Then he looked up at her.

"Thank you for all of your help with this, Maria," he said in earnest. "I'm sorry for, well, back then." He then glanced at his watch. "I have a plane to catch, so if there's nothing more that I need to do here."

"No," she answered as she stood to her feet. He stood to his own as well and they shook hands. "I'm sorry it seems not to have worked out," she said, and he wondered if that was her response to his apology. He nodded and turned to leave. "I know you saw his file," she then added and he stopped in his tracks. He glanced over his shoulder. "And I know why you've made this call."

"Does he have a chance?" Tony asked. "Because after everything I'd hate for him to get his hopes up. Well, I'd hate for either of them to get their hopes up," he corrected.

"In this particular case, yes, I think he does."

Tony closed his eyes and nodded, smiling even if he knew he needed to go through with removing himself from the equation.

"Good."


	20. Chapter 20

"Something smells absolutely delicious."

Bruce was broken from his thoughts where they'd been wandering as he stood at his stove stirring pasta. He smiled wide at the intrusion and turned his head to look at the door of his apartment.

"Hey, you," he greeted Jennifer as she came in, setting down her purse and discarding her jacket as she did. "Great timing. Dinner's just about done. Just need to drain the linguine and wait for the breadsticks," he told her as he turned off the stove and then moved over to the sink where the strainer was.

"Yum," she chirped. "I was hoping it would be Italian." Bruce chuckled. "So, any updates on your search for a new place?"

"Well, I saw a few interesting places. One's a little too far from the hospital for my liking, but it's cheaper so—"

"Hi, Jen!" Suddenly Steve hurried into the living room and over to the kitchen. Bruce smiled as he watched him hug his cousin.

"Hey there! Look at you!" She pulled back and looked him over. "You've gotten so big since the last time I saw you. And look how healthy you are."

Bruce smiled at that assessment. Compared to nearly two months earlier when he'd been in a coma, he really was. He was back to his regular PT treatments with Dr. Erskine. He'd even ventured spending the weekend before with Nick and Natasha and today he'd come home with Bruce to spend the weekend with him, the first trial weekend in the adoption process.

To say Bruce was nervous about the new responsibility, or what Steve might think after spending time with him away from the hospital, was an understatement, but it was a wonderful kind of nervousness. He was just so happy with the way everything was progressing and the hope of finalizing the adoption on the horizon and the thought of being more than just Steve's doctor that he only wondered why he'd ever waited so long to take this chance. Then again he wasn't ready before… well, before…

Bruce sighed and busied himself with finishing up dinner. It didn't do him any good thinking about him and it infuriated him that he could be equally more whole than he'd ever been with Steve wanting to be his son and broken in two over a short-lived romance.

"Hey, Dr. Banner?" Steve broke through his thoughts and Bruce turned around to look at him. His eyes widened when he saw that Steve had a very familiar item. "What's this? I found it in the bottom drawer you said I could put my stuff in."

"That—" He choked on the word and turned his head, unable to look at it. He cleared his throat. "It's, um… It belongs to Tony. I… I haven't had a chance to give it back to him yet. It's a prototype he was tinkering on one day and forgot about." Bruce had put it away after their fallout and forgotten about it too.

Steve looked at it with a furrowed brow and small frown before looking up at Bruce and asking, "So, Tony lives here too?"

"Um," Bruce hadn't expected that and glanced at Jennifer to see her sympathetic expression, "no, but he was over here a lot."

"Was?" Steve's frown deepened and he set the prototype arc reactor down on the island counter. Bruce sighed and moved to stand closer to him.

"Steve, are you okay?"

"Why hasn't he come visit me yet?" he asked and he looked like he felt about as bad as Bruce did regarding the subject. "The reports say that he's been back for almost two weeks."

"Well," Bruce swallowed another sigh and hitched a shoulder, "he's probably still very busy and—"

"No," Steve countered, "I don't believe that." He shook his head. "He would have already visited by now if he wanted to." Bruce felt a sharp pang in his chest at his words. Steve had come to the same conclusion he had. Tony didn't want to come. "He… He doesn't want to visit me. Is… Is that why he won't visit you either?" Steve met his eyes with a worried expression. "Because he doesn't want to see me? Did you guys break up because of me? Because Natasha said she's certain Tony wanted to—"

"No, no, it's not your fault," Bruce cut him off, not only to reassure him, but also in selfish need to end the conversation. "Steve, Tony and I— We just…" Bruce bit his lip when he realized the unexpected conversation was too much. He'd assumed this would come up eventually since Tony was back and hadn't made any contact, but he thought he'd be able to handle it and apparently he couldn't. "Jen, can you finish? I… I need to… I'll be right back."

He grabbed the arc reactor on his way out and made his way to his bedroom, where Steve was bunking while Bruce took the couch since he didn't have a guest room. He hurried over to one of his own dresser drawers and quickly tucked the item away. He shut the drawer perhaps more harshly than was necessary as he let out a sharp exhale of breath. He then inhaled deeply, trying to steady his emotions, but it was no use. He faltered back to the freshly made bed and sat on the edge.

"Bruce, are you okay?" He looked at the door to see the blurry image of his cousin standing there, clearly not going to come any further without his permission. He blinked, realizing she was blurry because he was crying.

"I don't know," Bruce answered with a shrug. "I…" He shook his head and looked around his room, though his eyes didn't focus on anything in particular, until they landed on the drawer where he'd put the prototype. "God, I've never been so happy or so damn miserable. I don't know what to do, Jen."

"Have you tried calling him?" Bruce snorted and shook his head. "I'm serious," she defended her suggestion. "You're both adults so try acting like it. At the very least you need to know where he stands definitely."

"I know where he stands definitely," Bruce countered. "I told him that if he wants to talk when he gets back, I'd be here. He's back and so far, nothing. I think that's pretty definite that he doesn't want to move forward." Jennifer groaned and let her head fall back on her shoulders. 

"Or maybe it means he's just as uncertain about this mess as you are."

"I hear what you're saying, Jen," Bruce said with a broad shrug. "I do. But I don't know if I have it in me to put myself out there like that. Not with him. I care too much. I don't think I could handle it if I had to hear him say it outright." He hung his head, shaking it slightly. "And I wouldn't even be able to blame him. Not after the things I said. I practically blamed him for all of the people his weapons used to kill. God, Jen, I thew it up in his face that Dr. Yinsen's own family was killed by terrorists that had Tony's weapons. Then I told him that it was a bad idea for us to-to... He probably doesn't want anything to do with me and it's my fault. And Steve's suffering because of it. I just wish-" His voice cracked. It didn't matter what he wished anyway.

Jennifer didn't respond for a long moment, but when she finally did she sighed and said, "You really fell hard for him didn't you?"

Bruce slowly lifted his head, eyes going back to the drawer he'd placed Tony's miniature reactor in. Maybe it wasn't only that he'd forgotten about it. Maybe it was also because he hadn't wanted to remember that it wasn't his to keep. He hadn't wanted to give it back. He couldn't look at it so he'd put it away, but he didn't want to let it go. He didn't want to let _Tony_ go.

"He felt like home." He let out a sharp breath. "He felt like home and I've lost him."

Before he could even blink, Jennifer was sat beside him on the bed with her arms wrapped around him. He didn't push her away.

"You don't know that, Bruce," she said very gently, voice almost a whisper. "You didn't lose Steve when you thought you might. You may not have lost Tony either."

"I want to believe that—"

"Then you should." Bruce and Jennifer both looked up at the same time to see Steve standing nearby, looking at them sheepishly. "I wasn't eavesdropping, promise," he said quickly. "I came to say the oven is about to go off."

"Right," Bruce remembered and stood to his feet, "the breadsticks." He moved toward the door as Steve moved toward him.

"I didn't mean to make you sad," Steve apologized, looking up at him.

"I know you didn't," Bruce assured him, stopping and placing a hand on one of Steve's shoulders. "And, again, Steve, I want you to know that it has _nothing_ to do with you, okay?'

Steve hesitated, but then said, "Okay."

"Good," Bruce said. "Now let's try and drop the subject and go enjoy dinner."

"Let me grab my sketchpad," Steve replied and hurried over to the night stand where it sat.

The stove's cooking timer went off just then and Jennifer said, "I've got it."

Bruce acknowledged his cousin with a grateful smile and then looked at Steve curiously. He was standing over the nightstand, his back turned to Bruce, as if he'd been frozen in place.

"Is something wrong?"

"Did…" Steve's voice was smaller than it usually was. He restarted, but no less timidly, "Did Tony really feel like home?" He turned to look at him with round eyes tinted with sadness. Bruce's own eyes widened and his cheeks warmed a little at the fact that Steve had heard that much.

"Yeah," he admitted with a sigh, no use in denying it now, "he did. But, Steve," he decided to shift the focus of the subject, for both their sake, "he also showed me that with or without him I already had a home. I just needed to have my eyes open." Steve hurried over and threw his arms around him.

"You feel like home to me too," he said and Bruce hugged him back tightly, feeling his chest fill with warmth and affection. He still missed Tony and he wasn't sure how long he'd go on missing him, but if the universe wouldn't let him have all the things he wanted, so long as it let him have Steve then it was a compromise he was willing to make.

\-----

Tony came into his office and was surprised to see Pepper sitting in a chair, a few folders in her lap no doubt with his name on them, and watching his television. He opened his mouth to tease her for having it set to one of the media news, which was synonymous with gossip, channels instead of the actual news when he realized what was currently being discussed. He felt like he'd been turned to stone, unable to move or speak.

"Sources are saying that Stark has been back in California for two weeks and there has yet to be any sighting of him with Dr. Banner, former nuclear physicist who he was seen a handful of times with before spending his stint on the East Coast." The screen showed a paparazzi photo of himself and Bruce on one of their dates and Tony's heart constricted. "While sources say Tony Stark was strictly in New York on business, to oversee his new company Resilient, and did not see anyone else during this time, his reluctance to pick up where things left off with Dr. Banner now that he's back seems to confirm rumors that Tony left California on a sour note. Our prediction is this unexpected romance was another passing fling for Stark's notorious little black book." Tony winced. "After the break—" Pepper turned off the television with a loud sigh.

"Do you ever wonder who their sources are?" Tony asked once the distracting noise was off and he felt like he could breathe again. Pepper startled, nearly jumping in her seat, and turned to look at him. "I mean," Tony continued as he came into the office and walked over to his desk, "it always makes me wonder if I should check to make sure we don't have a lot of stool pigeons working for us, you know?"

"You know it's probably one of your usual stalkers. They didn't see you out with anyone and reported back," she said reasonably, getting up and coming over to stand on the opposite side of his desk.

"And this is the portion of the conversation where Dr. Banner would say: there was absolutely nothing normal whatsoever about that statement," Tony said with a bitter sigh as he sank down into his chair.

"Or he might," Pepper countered, laying the folders onto the desk in front of him and crossing her arms in a quick, practiced motion, "if Mr. Stark wasn't purposely avoiding him with all the maturity of a fifth grader."

Tony pouted and said, "Give me at least a little bit of credit, Pepper. This is at least 7th grade pettiness." She snorted and gave a nod.

"You're right. A fifth grader would have kept saying 'I'm sorry' until he accepted the apology. Or maybe—"

"I'm not going to coerce him into forgiving me," Tony snapped and she threw up her hands. He sighed and backed off. "I tried to ask him to give us another chance," he reminded her. "And look where that got me. He wouldn't even hear me out. Told me to go to New York and I know he didn't just mean for me to go do my job."

"Okay, yeah, I admit that sounds bad," Pepper conceded, although Tony could tell by her tone and expression that she wasn't _really_ conceding, "but you told me he also said you could talk when you got back if you wanted to. You obviously still want to," she said, moving her hands to her hips and tilting her head toward him in an incredulous manner. "So why haven't you? He gave you the opening and you're just sitting there moping like he didn't. Maybe he wasn't telling you to leave. Maybe that was just his way of saying he needed a little time and that he hoped you would give it to him and not hold it against him by doing exactly what you've been doing." Tony furrowed his brow as her words struck him. He looked over at nothing in particular as he considered her alternate reasoning. He had to admit it made sense and he liked that explanation a whole lot better than the conclusion he'd come to. "And don’t even get me started on you abandoning that little boy. This is precisely what I was worried about. That you were rushing into it and—"

"Hey!" Tony snapped again. That was one accusation he _wouldn't_ tolerate. "I didn't abandon him. I did what was best for him. I've spoken to Nick and I've spoken to Maria. Steve said yes the second he found out Bruce had been approved to continue forward in the adoption process if he wanted him to. He's going to be adopted, Pepper. And he's going to be happy. He's already happy from what I understand. He doesn't need me screwing that up."

"This isn't about that," Pepper countered with a scowl. "I'm glad that he's happy and being adopted. But this may come as a shock to you, Tony, kids are capable of caring about more than one person at a time."

"Okay?"

"As in whether or not you were ever going to adopt him, you still inserted yourself into that little boy's life only to remove yourself once you didn't get what you wanted." Tony's eyes widened. "You're avoiding Steve just as much as you're avoiding Dr. Banner and don't try to deny it. You think you lost both of them so you're not going to make yourself vulnerable by sticking around, am I right?" Tony swallowed hard and held her fiercely knowing gaze. "Tell me again what it was that you and Dr. Banner got into a fight about in the first place?"

"Shit," Tony muttered. He moved a hand through his hair and then held it atop his head for a moment. Then he scrubbed his face with it and held it over his mouth, moving his eyes upward toward the ceiling. "Shit, shit, shit." He dropped his hand and shook his head. "I'm an idiot. I said all those terrible things to him and then here I'm doing the same damn thing," he practically growled the words, angry at himself. "You're right. I promised Steve I would still visit him and…" He grimaced. "And I'm afraid. I understand what Bruce was going through now."

"Then why don't you tell him, huh?" A breathless and demanding, and startlingly familiar, voice interrupted. Tony's gaze darted toward the door and his heart nearly stopped at the sight of Steve, standing just inside the office with his chest heaving up and down almost violently.

"Security breach." Happy appeared in the door behind him suddenly, coming to a stop and holding his chest as he breathed heavily. "I tried to stop him, but—" He was unable to finish and merely waved a hand, indicating Steve had been too fast for him.

That's when it dawned on him that Steve had been running and he was breathing hard on account of it. Tony shot to his feet and hurried over to him to make sure he was alright.

"Steve, Steve, breathe deeply with me, okay?" Steve nodded and Tony guided him through deep breaths while leading him over to his office sofa. Steve sat down and continued to take deep breaths. "How are you feeling? Better? You shouldn't have been running like that. Do you have your inhaler? Do you need some water?" Tony glanced at Pepper. "Call one of our gophers and have them bring me some warm water." He heard Pepper move to the phone on his desk to do so.

"I'm… I'm fine now," Steve finally said. "I can run, you know? Just…" He bit his lip and looked down at his shoes guiltily. "I guess I'm not used to running that far… or away from someone. And I was afraid I'd get caught and they wouldn't let me see you."

Tony's eyes widened and then the reality of Steve being there at all settled over him. He'd been only momentarily confused by Steve's presence before his worry about Steve's asthma had become his number one priority. Now his brain was able to register that Steve shouldn't be in his office.

"Steve, I'm not mad," Tony started carefully, "and I'm not going to send you away, but how did you get here?"

"Um…" Steve looked like a deer in headlights for a fleeting second before unzipping his jacket and pulling out a comic book. Tony furrowed his brow as Steve held it out. "I didn't know when I'd see you again and I wanted you to see this. It's the first Avengers comic and maybe I'll even get it published. Oh, Avengers is what I'm calling the hero team of all the other heroes I've created so far," he added like an afterthought.

"Steve," Tony said his name seriously, even as he took the comic to look at it. "Answer the question." Steve suddenly looked like a kicked puppy and Tony felt a pang of guilt, but he knew this was important.

"You promised you would come back and visit. But you're back now and you haven't."

"I know, Steve," Tony said quickly and looked down at the comic, unable to stomach the betrayed expression on Steve's face. He furrowed his brow when he saw the cover. His comic alter ego and Bruce's were getting married? Only it looked like it was being foiled hence the need for the 'Avengers to assemble for the first time' as the caption read. He swallowed hard at the fact that Steve still thought they were together, or maybe wanted them to be. He looked back up finally. "I'm so sorry for not keeping my promise right away. I wanted to see you as soon as I stepped off the plane and I should have. But I just wasn't sure I'd be welcome. I guess I was wrong and I'm sorry."

"Are you!?" Steve stood up quickly, shouting at him. "Natasha said you wanted to adopt me, but you must have changed your mind. Is _that_ why you left? Because you realized you don't want me?"

"What?" Tony reeled backwards a few steps away from him, Steve's angry accusation ringing in his ears. "You think I don't want you?"

"I don't know." Steve shrugged. "You must not if it's true you were gonna adopt me before. Maybe you realized how sick I really am and decided not to deal with it. Maybe you got mad at me for yelling at you."

Tony glanced down at the comic in his hand and then closed his eyes tight as he scrunched his face. He too several deep breaths, not sure of how to handle the situation let alone what to make of Steve's anger. He had never wanted to hurt Steve and yet it seemed to be the only thing he knew how to do.

"Yes," he exhaled the word sharply and opened his eyes to see Steve's looking up at him with round disbelief. "Yes, I was going to adopt you. And I would still love to do that," he said, going for broke and being honest with him. "But I am not fit to be your parent. You wouldn't be happy with me. And I'd just keep hurting you like I did—" He cut himself off and looked down. "Like before."

"But I forgave you for that," Steve said, his voice wavering. Tony looked at him again to see him on the verge of tears. "Why do you think I wouldn't be happy?" Tony furrowed his brow. He glanced at Pepper and Happy, where she stood and he sat, but they didn't seem to have the answer. Pepper did have a cup of water in hand, however, and Tony realized he hadn't even registered when it had gotten there or who'd even brought it.

"Steve, I don't…" Tony looked back at him. "I don't understand. I thought you wanted to be adopted by Dr. Banner. Aren't you… Aren't you happy with _him_?"

"Well, _yeah!_ " Steve said in an emphatic tone, as if offended that Tony should even ask. "But… but just because I've wanted to be adopted by Dr. Banner longer doesn't mean I would have said no to you. It doesn't mean I can't be happy with you too." Tony swallowed hard and looked at Pepper to see the 'I told you so' expression on her face. Then he looked down at the comic in his hand again as the meaning of it dawned on him. "Maybe," Steve's voice grew small, "maybe I wish I didn't have to choose. I feel bad knowing you both want to adopt me, but only one of you can. I want," his voice hitched. "I want to be happy with both of you!" He burst into tears and collapsed back onto the sofa.

"Steve—" Tony's voice cracked, his own emotion overwhelming him and flooding his eyes. He wished that too. He'd screwed everything up from the get-go. He should have told Bruce he'd known who he was. He should have told Bruce he wanted to adopt Steve. He should have told Bruce he didn't want to go to New York and he didn't want them to break up and he didn't want to let him go without a fight because he was certain he loved him. He loved Bruce and he loved Steve and he didn't want a life without either of them, selflessness be damned. Suddenly Tony's cell rang and he fished it out of his pocket quickly, realizing as he did that Steve had yet to answer the question of how he'd gotten there. His heart skipped a beat when he realized it was Bruce. He took a deep breath and answered it. "Bruce, he's—"

"Tony, thank god," Bruce cut him off before he could assure him Steve was okay and Tony heard the raw, irrational panic in the other man's voice. "Tony, it's… Oh god, it's Steve—" His voice went up an octave and sharply, an all too familiar sound that had haunted Tony until Steve had woken up. Tony's own panic set in then.

"Bruce, Bruce, can you hear me?" Tony asked. He was beginning to think their collective arrhythmia was going to be the death of all of them at this point. Well, not literally, but they could hopefully get through this to laugh about it with a morbid sense of humor. "Bruce, you need to calm down for me, honey, because I swear I'm not going through this twice in one year."

"Bruce!?" Steve wasted no time in jumping up from the couch and hurrying over. He clung to Tony's arm desperately. "Is he okay!?"

"Steve? Tony, was that Steve!?" Bruce asked in Tony's ear so he quickly handed the phone down to Steve.

"Dr. Banner, are you okay?" Steve asked. He didn't say anything for a moment, but Tony could hear Bruce on the other end, clear relief in his muffled voice. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay." Steve paused again and a few seconds later he choked on a sob as fresh tears started running down his face. Tony wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders and he burrowed into the embrace. "I'm sorry," Steve cried. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, but… I just… I _had_ to see Tony. Are you okay? Are you mad at me? I'm sorry." Steve cried harder and Tony reached for the phone.

"Steve," he said gently, "I'd like to talk to Bruce. Just calm down okay? No good for both of you to get worked up. You're both fine. I'm sure he's not mad at you. Steve, look at me, please." Steve looked up at him. "Just breathe and drink the water. I'm going to talk to Bruce and then I'm going to take you back. And I promise you we're going to get through this, understand? You shouldn't have run off or worried Bruce like this, but I'm sorry for making you feel like you had to. If he'll be mad at anyone it'll be me and I'll be okay with that because I deserve it for making you feel like I didn't want you when that's not even remotely the truth. But no matter what happens, I promise we'll get through this."

"Okay." Steve nodded and hugged him before handing him the phone, grabbing the comic still in Tony's other hand, and moving back over to the couch. Pepper moved to sit beside him, handing him the water and rubbing his back in a soothing gesture.

"Bruce?" Tony finally put the phone back up to his ear.

"Oh god, Tony," Bruce said, the words rushing out like he'd been holding his breath the entire time. "Tony, I was so scared. He went to school today and-and… Nick went to pick him up, but…"

"Bruce, breathe, _please_." Tony felt his heart beat sporadically, worried for the other man and wishing he was there with him to comfort him.

"Right, I know. I know. I just… He wasn't there and Nick called me and, oh god, I didn't know what to do. My first thought was to call you. I didn't think he'd be there, but god, I'm so glad he is. Is he really okay?"

"Yes, Bruce. He's really okay. He's a little worked up, but he's drinking some warm water and trying to calm down."

"I know, I heard, and—"

"And now _you_ need to calm down," Tony urged before he could get started again. "Promise me. Do your breathing techniques or meditate or take the medicine if you have to. Don't make me call Dr. Foster and have her order you for me." Bruce let out a strangled laugh and Tony responded with a reflex-smile at the sound. "Now I'm going to bring him back so you stay put and take care of yourself in the meantime. Are you at the hospital?"

"Yeah," Bruce answered, his voice hoarse.

"Okay, well, we'll be there soon. And I guess you should probably call Nick to and let him know." Tony paused. He considered saying a quick goodbye and hanging up the phone, but he couldn't. "Look, Bruce, I'm sorry he ran away to come see me. You can blame me for this if you want. It's my fault for not coming to see him again sooner. I promised him we're going to get through this and I mean that. So, hopefully we won't have to go through this again."

"We're both to blame," Bruce said and Tony wasn't sure why, but he smiled. There was something in his Bruce's voice that gave Tony sudden hope. "I knew he missed you and you should have known he would miss you. Either one of us could have taken the initiative for his sake, but we didn't. We both screwed up and… I think we both know why we did." Tony's smile faltered a little and he held his breath. "Tony, I think we need to talk finally."

"Yeah," Tony nodded, looking over at Steve as he did, "we do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. "honey" because if there's anything I love about IM3 it's that it established as canon Tony using terms of endearment, especially in moments - it seemed like to me - when he starts to panic.


	21. Chapter 21

Bruce took a deep breath in and then exhaled as the cold metal of the stethoscope moved around on his back. He repeated this action a few more times until the metal moved away from under his shirt and Charles removed the device from his ears so that it rested loosely around his neck.

"Better," Charles said. "The medicine seems to be kicking in. And I'm sure you'll be as right as rain when Steve gets here."

"Thanks for checking," Bruce said as he put his medical jacket back on.

Bruce didn't like taking the heart medicine, but as he'd paced around waiting for Steve and Tony to get there he'd realized nothing else would be able to calm him down. He'd been like a jumping bean every single time the elevator doors had opened. So he'd taken the pill, waited the recommended time for it to start working and then asked Charles to take a listen. He didn't trust himself to gauge it properly and strangely he suspected Tony wouldn't take his word for it that he'd calmed down anyhow.

Tony.

His first instinct had been to call Tony. Tony had sounded worried about him. He'd even called him... honey, Bruce recalled with a flutter in his stomach. Now he was going to see Tony again. They were going to talk. He swallowed hard at the thought, his stomach turning from a flutter to practically helium. That was precisely why he needed the medicine in this case.

"Oh, you know it's no trouble at all," Dr. Xavier was smiling warmly and shaking his head as he spoke. Bruce brushed aside his thoughts about Tony and focused on the other doctor. "I don't blame you with that sort of scare. I'd dare say you aren't the only one relieved at his being okay."

"Yeah." It was all Bruce could manage as they moved out of the small office and down the hall. When they reached the reception Bruce came to stop at the sight of not only Nick and Natasha, but also Maria. "Oh no."

"Courage, Bruce," Charles said, clasping his shoulder. "Perhaps now would be a good time to practice _not_ jumping to terrible conclusions," other man said and then left him to move on down another hall.

"Nick, Ms. Hill," Bruce announced his presence, taking a deep breath to steady his new bout of nerves. Both adults stopped talking and turned to look at him. Natasha looked at him too, but also kept her eyes glancing back and forth between the three of them. Bruce realized she was studying the entire situation as she usually did. "He's not here yet," Bruce said, moving closer to them. They just nodded in acknowledgment. "I guess I should just ask outright instead of beating around the bush. Is this going to affect anything?" He looked at Maria to let her know the question was aimed at and steeled himself for the answer.

Maria sighed, looked at Nick for a long moment, and then met Bruce's gaze before saying, "Well, I will have to discuss this incident with Steve. That’s why I'm here. And since he's still technically in Nick's custody, my questions won't solely be about whether he's happy with you."

"We both know Nick has nothing to do with this," Bruce replied, dubious of her response. He glanced at Nick and then back again as he crossed his arms.

"You're right, but it's protocol. As for your specific question, that has yet to be determined. I'm going to be frank with you, Dr. Banner. It would seem that your relationship with Tony Stark needs to be addressed before moving forward. If your issues with him are going to cause Steve to act out in an unhealthy way then I'm afraid I'll have no choice, but to consider—"

The elevator opened, effectively cutting her ominous statement off. Bruce moved his head sharply in that direction and his heart stuttered at the sight of Steve and Tony both.

"Steve," he breathed out in relief. He took a step forward and to his surprise Steve hurried the rest of the way over to him and threw his arms around him. "Steve, oh god, thank god," Bruce said, a jumble of words and emotions as he hugged him tightly. "I'm so glad you're safe. Promise me you'll never _ever_ do anything that dangerous again."

"I promise," Steve said.

"If you'd wanted a ride to see Tony," Nick said, "all you had to do was ask, Steve." Steve pulled away from the hug and looked at his foster dad sheepishly.

"I guess I worried everyone, huh?" Steve then looked back at Bruce.

"Only because we love you, Steve," Natasha chimed in with an admonishing shake of her head. "I mean, jeez, loser, when are you going to get that through your thick head?" she then teased.

Steve gave a small smile and shrug. Then the smile fell slightly and he looked back toward the elevator. Bruce followed his gaze and in doing so he locked eyes with Tony. He swallowed hard and felt another wave of fresh emotion wash over him. Tony was no more than ten feet away and just as handsome as the first time their eyes had met across a room.

"I think I know that now," Steve said. "I just had to make sure about Tony. I had to find out why he didn't want to adopt me."

Bruce's eyes flickered over to Steve and he tilted his head before he straightened his head and looked to see the truth in Tony's face before he even asked, "You wanted to adopt Steve? You were the other person interested?" Tony stared at him without answering, eyes searching his face for what Bruce wasn't quite certain. "But..." Bruce hesitated when Tony took a few steps toward him and then a few more. "But why didn't you say anyth—"

Tony was suddenly in front of him, his hand pulling him by one side of his face into a bruising kiss that swallowed up the rest of his question. Bruce couldn't stop himself from melting immediately into the kiss. His heart jumped and beat faster in spite of the medicine and in a way that Bruce hadn't before realized he could actually miss, and hadn't missed before Tony came along and changed his perspective.

"I should have told you," Tony said, pulling away, but not letting go of his hold on him. "At the time I didn't know how and I wasn't sure if it was even appropriate. I thought we hadn't gotten that far, but..." Tony shook his head, letting his sentence trail. "The point is I messed up. There were a lot of things I should have told you, but didn't because, well, like you said about yourself, I'm not really good at this. I'm sorry and I'm asking you to give me another chance. I may not know a lot of things about how to do this right, but I know I have to try. I want to try if you'll just let me." Tony smoothed his thumb across Bruce's skin and then dropped his hand to take both of Bruce's into his own. "I... I don't want to make the mistake of rushing things and messing up again or freaking you out, but... You need to know that I love you." Bruce's eyes widened and tears flooded his eyes. "My heart beats for you, Bruce."

"Tony," Bruce started, but then stopped. He wasn't sure how to respond or if he had the nerve. But he had to try so he took a deep breath, and said, "I'm the one who's sorry. I'm the one who needs a second chance, Tony." Tony furrowed his brow. "I said horrible, _horrible_ things to you. And Steve wasn't the only one I was going to walk away from, Tony. You know that," he said with a frown, looking at him desperately. "I don't deserve for you to be okay with that. Neither you nor Steve deserve to deal with me." He glanced at Steve, a small pain in his chest as he reevaluated what he was doing. "I don't deserve either of you and maybe... Maybe you should adopt him after all."

"But I want both of you!" Steve interjected and hurried over to stand next to them. Bruce looked down at him with wide eyes, then at Nick and Maria.

"Hey," Tony said gently and Bruce finally looked back at him, "I didn't ask what I deserve or what you deserve. We've already established we're both a little lost and confused, Bruce." He searched his face and said, "Besides, I've already forgiven you for all of the things you said. Now I'm asking if you can do the same for me. I'm asking if you still want to try and figure this out together," he reminded him of his promise. "Because I do, so I'm asking if you still care for me even a little or if—"

"Yes," Bruce blurted. "Yes, Tony, of course. God, I...I love you. I love you so much, but—" Tony cut him off with another kiss and Bruce had to admit the other man's lips moving tenderly against his own like they'd always belonged there was a pretty convincing argument.

"Then let's start over," Tony urged, his voice full of longing that chased away the rest of Bruce's self-doubt. "A very smart man once said that just because we have things in our lives we have to deal with it doesn't make us any less worth it." Bruce's eyes widened as he recalled the words he'd said to Steve and he glanced down to see Steve's were wide as well. He looked up at Bruce with a smile that was contagious. Bruce smiled and met Tony's intense gaze. "We all have things that we have to deal with and if someone really loves us, it means they're willing to help us deal with them. I'm willing to deal with your struggles if you're willing to deal with mine, Bruce." Bruce's heart raced, but he finally felt safe again. "Because you're as easy to love as they come."

"So are you, Tony," Bruce said and captured Tony's lips for himself this time. They kissed for a long moment until someone cleared their throat. They both turned in sync to see Maria looking at them quite pointedly.

"For Steve's sake I'm glad you two have worked this out, but it also brings up other conc—"

"That reminds me," Tony cut her off and she frowned at him, "I'm not quite done here." Tony looked back at Bruce with a smile so wide it looked like it might split his face in half. It was also contagious and Bruce looked at him in amusement. "Now that we've got that settled we should be together," he said, "what are your thoughts on adoption, Dr. Banner?"

Bruce blinked, a little surprised by the unnecessary question, and replied, "Um, well, I'm pretty in favor,, but—"

"Wonderful, because I'm definitely in favor of it." Tony's face grew serious, though he still smiled, and he looked at Steve and then back. "I don't care if it's in a two bedroom apartment or my mansion or a house with a rose garden and a willow tree. The last couple of months have been lonely in a way they've never been before and I realize now it's because when I met you and Steve, I finally found a place that feels like home. I want to figure everything out together, Bruce." 

"You mean—" The breath that Bruce had holding hitched in the back of his throat. "Together? But then—"

"I'll marry you as soon as you say the word if Ms. Hill over there says it's a requirement."

Bruce's eyes widened and he wasn't sure what was scarier, the thought of how fast things were moving again or how his head – and arrhythmic heart – screamed _yes_.

"It's not a requirement," Maria said, arms folded as she studied them, "but married couples looking to adopt do tend to have an easier time of it." She glanced down at the floor for a moment and then back again. "Since I can tell you're thinking about it, I must warn you, Dr. Banner. You'll have to start the process over with a joint application and interviews. You'll most certainly have to work out your plans for permanent residence. It will probably take a little longer to finalize things if you're approved to take the adoption request to court." She sighed then and her stern expression softened as she moved toward the elevator. "I'd like to discuss your options with you in depth so I'll be in touch. Then, I'd like you both to think on those options very seriously before making a decision."

"Of course," Bruce said, nodding. "We won't do anything rash." He gave Tony his own pointed look to let him know he meant that. "We just want to do what's best for Steve."

"What's best for me is to be adopted by both of them," Steve said in a defiant tone as he faced Maria. Just as surprising as when Nick did so, Maria suddenly barked out a laugh. Bruce met Tony's equally stunned expression.

"You know, Steve," she said, smiling, "I do think you might just be right about that. And, you know, honestly, I hope you are." She nodded her farewell and stepped onto the elevator. 

"So... You're really going to adopt me? _Both_ of you?" Steve asked when she was gone.

Bruce realized he hadn't actually answered outright that he would consider it. He looked at Tony and realized the universe was trying to give him both of the things he wanted after all and if ever there was a time to smash through his carefully constructed walls it was now.

"Yes, Steve," Bruce said with newfound confidence. "We're going to try."

Steve threw his arms around them both and they wrapped their arms around him and each other in turn, a group hug that definitely felt like home. When they broke apart, Steve hurried over to Nick and hugged him as well, while he and Tony turned to watch with their arms still around each other.

"Thank you, Nick," Steve said in a reverential tone. "Thank you for bringing me here. And for taking care of me."

Nick smiled, hugged him tightly and then said, "My pleasure, Steve." He looked at them over the top of his head and added, "I'm happy you found what you needed."


	22. Epilogue

Tony turned away from the bar with a refill of champagne in hand. He took a casual sip of it as he glanced around the reception hall. Everyone was moving around and mingling, many waiting to give the wedding party their usual greeting and making small chat until the next available opening. Currently Dr. Xavier had the table's collective ear, as did his date Erik although the latter seemed less inclined to talk. Tony shook his head and took another sip to hide his amusement.

"Lensherr looks like he was dragged here," he mumbled against the flute and then lowered it. He still wasn't quite sure how that relationship worked, beyond the obvious chemistry that is, but so far so good he supposed. Although there'd been one very dicey argument about politics or something or other; he couldn't quite remember Charles' drunken rant when he'd come seeking friendly shoulders to cry on.

Suddenly Lensherr turned his head and narrowed his eyes, glancing around the room. At first Tony suspected he had felt his eyes on him, but then his eyes landed on where the many children there for the occasion were seated together. Tony glanced in that direction and saw them all clearly up to no good. Even Pietro and Phil, both who were still limited in what they could do, seemed in on whatever madness they were scheming as they gathered up all of the party favors from an empty table nearby. 

Tony's eyes widened when he realized Steve seemed to be the one instigating it, not Natasha or even Clint - as Tony was quickly learning he could be quite the trouble maker as well. Tony looked back to the wedding party table, where now both Lensherr and Charles seemed to be deliberating the situation with the kids, and wondered if he should go join in. Before he could, however, he was interrupted by Darcy who practically had a bounce in her step as she joined him at the bar.

He raised an eyebrow at her and made to finish his champagne with one long drink as he glanced back across the room to see the wedding party table was finally clear for a moment. Suddenly brown eyes locked with his, stealing his breath away. His drink was forgotten, the flute resting at his lips as they twitched upward into a smile. He was rewarded with a slow, intoxicating smile in return and eyes that Tony could swear were screaming _come hither_.

"Damn," Tony breathed out the word, it sounding like a besotted sigh, "he's the most stunning man I've ever seen." He quickly drained his champagne at last, the effects of it negligible compared to the way that smile went straight to his head.

"Oooh," Darcy interjected beside him and Tony furrowed his brow, glancing sidelong at her. He had a strong hunch she was already tipsy and itching for the dance floor to open up. "Want me to introduce you to Mr. Right?" she asked with a playful wink.

Tony indulged her a little, looking back across the room as he said, "Thanks, but I learned the hard way once it's best not to tempt fate when something as amazing as that comes along. Never know if this heartbeat will be your last." He deposited the flute on the bar counter and winked at her. "So if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go introduce myself instead."

Tony made a deliberately slow show of straightening his tie and running a hand through his hair as he made his way across the room, the other man watching his every move. He found his target sitting alone, the bride and groom having gotten up to go mingle of their own accord apparently.

"Hello, there handsome," Tony said with flirtatious smile as he looked down at him.

"Hello to you." He looked across the room and then back. "Do I want to know what you were talking about with Darcy?" He raised an eyebrow. Tony snorted and sat down in his seat beside him.

"She was trying to set me up with Mr. Right," he told him.

"Ah. She has a tendency to do that. What did you tell her?"

"That I'm more than capable of introducing myself to Mr. Right when he comes along," Tony said and then let his look turn sly. "Incidentally, the name's Tony."

Bruce chuckled in understanding and replied, "Small world. My husband's name is Tony."

"Your husband?" Tony feigned an epiphany. "Oh, hey, now I know why you looked so familiar." Bruce laughed again.

"How much champagne did you have while you were over there?" he asked, eyes dancing with amusement as they studied him.

"Well, certainly not as much as Darcy," Tony answered with a snort. "Something tells me she's already eyeing which table is the best for dancing on."

"We'd better warn Jane," Bruce said dryly. "We also might want to find out what Steve's up to."

"You noticed?" Tony asked with a laugh and followed his gaze over toward the kids.

"Charles did actually," Bruce answered.

"Of course he did." Tony shook his head. Somebody should really test that man for telepathy. "But I'm sure whatever it is if Steve instigated it we probably don't have _that_ much to worry about. Probably something completely harmless."

"You're probably right." Bruce nodded and they shared a long look, no doubt thinking the same exact thing.

"Yep," Tony agreed with Bruce's unspoken supplication and stood to his feet, "better go check on him."

"After all," Bruce said with a lilt in his voice as they made their way over to Steve, "he's getting to be more and more like his father every day."

Tony stopped in his tracks, smiling wide, and grabbed Bruce by his wrist. He spun him back around and into him. Bruce giving a startled, and adorable, _oomph_ at the motion.

"You're absolutely right, I just can't take you anywhere, can I, Dr. Banner?" Tony asked him with a smirk. 

"Well, with _your_ driving _and_ champagne in your system, I'd say that's probably a good thing," Bruce deadpanned, but then smiled almost wickedly and Tony's eyes widened in anticipation. "But maybe if we can get talk Nick into doing us a favor so we can have a night to ourselves, I could think of a few places you can take me." Tony's mouth fell open. 

"Well, now, just how much champagne have _you_ had?" He lifted a curious eyebrow. 

"None, actually," Bruce said with a thin, not-quite-sheepish smile. "It doesn't agree with the medicine."

Tony's eyes widened again and he sputtered, understanding well enough by now what kind of mood Bruce was in if he actually took the medicine in advance. Bruce chuckled at his gaping expression.

"You go talk to Nick and I'll go make sure the kids are up to no good." Tony furrowed his brow and tried again. "I mean, _not_ up to no good."

"Sure," Bruce chuckled again, "like I believe that. I'll probably come back to find you cheerleading whatever it is they're all up to." He sighed and shook his had fondly. "But that's just one of the reasons why I love you."

He turned to walk away, but Tony pulled him right back again and captured his lips. Bruce yielded to the kiss and then slid his lips open to deepen it for a brief, teasing moment before pulling back and smiling against his lips as they shared a few breaths. Tony moved his fingers to Bruce's pulse as he pressed their foreheads together. 

"Thanks for saving my life," Tony whispered, the sentiment coming to the surface of his mind every so often when he thought about how wonderful his life was now. 

"Thanks for saving mine," was Bruce's constant answer. 

As he always did, Tony hoped that somewhere Dr. Yinsen knew just how grateful they both were for his legacy. Then again, as he and Bruce finally parted and he made his way over to their angel, something told Tony that somewhere he just might. In which case he only hoped that the man was back with his family and as happy as Tony was with his.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END and stuff! Thank you for reading! As always, I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Because I realize that this story probably got away from me in terms of potential narrative for the slew of characters that existed - and given the slight time jump with the epilogue - this is one of those stories that I wouldn't mind coming back to for further polish-edits or expanding based on feedback... after I've taken a step back from it for a little bit since right now I'm still so insecure about it. If there are any particular ideas that you would like to see expanded on or clarified, please feel free to comment! It was suggested before that this would be a fun sandbox universe and I'm not completely against that if anyone were interested - and didn't have plans to, you know, do any damage to Tony/Bruce in the process - but at the very least I'm open to adding to this verse based on specific requests or feedback. E.g. requests for stories from other characters' pov, stories more focused on other relationships (romantic or platonic) in the verse, excerpts from the time skips (like during the weeks that Tony and Bruce were apart or how things went down before the epilogue), maybe surprise! Charles _is_ a telepath lol, or so on and so forth. Or if I'm just being presumptuous and nobody really wants anything else from this, I'm okay with being told that too! I might be insecure, but I'm also pretty easy to please because of it oop.
> 
> Either way, thank you again for all being my angels and inspiring me to keep going even when I really don't know if I have it in me.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic's title has changed 5 times. 3 of the fic titles were based on songs: Give Your Heart A Break, Two Pieces, and Heart Skips A Beat. And then it was almost called Yinsen Memorial because doesn't that just sound like some awful hospital drama series? Lol. Then finally back to the heart theme with the 'edgy' one word title that this fic officially bears. 
> 
> Ongoing playlist inspired by/powering this fic:  
> 1\. Give Your Heart A Break (Demi Lovato) 2. Two Pieces (Demi Lovato) 3. Heart Skips A Beat (Olly Murs) 4. Heart Skips A Beat (Lenka) 5. Me and My Broken Heart (Rixton) 6. Give Your Heart A Break (Glee Cast Version) 7. Lost Boy (Ruth B) 8. Loved Me Back To Life (Celine Dion) 9. We Found Love (Boyce Avenue) 10. Hollow (Tori Kelly) 11. Save The World/Don't Worry Child (Pentatonix) 12. A Little Bit Longer (Jonas Brothers) 13. Every Breath (Boyce Avenue) 14. Hand on Heart (Olly Murs) 15. Brand New (Ben Rector) 16. Future Looks Good (OneRepublic) 17. Lionheart (Demi Lovato) 18. Take You High (Kelly Clarkson) 19. Live Forever (The Band Perry) 20. Ordinary Day (Vanessa Carlton) 21. Water Under The Bridge (Adele) 22. Remedy (Adele) 23. Starting Over (Plumb) 24. Heartbeat Song (Kelly Clarkson) 25. The Cure (Lady Gaga)


End file.
